


Sunny Side Up

by DarknessBound



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bratty Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester First Meet, Castiel is So Done with Dean Winchester, Chef Castiel (Supernatural), Choking, Dean Winchester Being an Asshole, Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Edging, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Fist Fights, Hate Sex, Hate to Love, Kinky, M/M, Mouth-To-Mouth Combat, POV Castiel (Supernatural), Public Sex, Rough Sex, Sassy Castiel (Supernatural), Spoiled Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28913832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarknessBound/pseuds/DarknessBound
Summary: It’s just another day at the diner until some spoiled asshole comes in and tries to make Cas’ day a living hell. When they meet up in the alley to settle the score, things get a little… scrambled, and Cas' whole life gets turned upside down.*This fic is complete and will be uploaded on Fridays*
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 129
Kudos: 212





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is not beta'd or alpha'd. Go easy on me 😂 
> 
> Thanks to CeliPuff though for telling me to write one where our boys fight and then fuck. I just wish I'd have realized my one shot idea would end up a fully outlined, multi-chapter fic... shocker. Here's to you, Puff.

It's not often that small-town royalty comes into Page’s Diner, but today seems to be one of those rare kicks-in-the-ass. It's always the same — the upper echelon waltz in and think they own the place, and the people that work here. And sometimes, they're not wrong. 

“Who is it this time?” Cas asks his nervous-looking manager. 

She leans slightly to peek out through the slightly open door. “Green eyes, freckles, and muscles you'd punch a baby to run your hands over.”

 _Winchester._ Cas rolls his eyes, but straightens his back and washes his hands quickly before donning new gloves. The Winchesters own the half of the town that people like Cas don't associate with — the gun ranges, sporting goods stores, bait shops. They went from backwoods hunters to new money in just a couple of years thanks to a rise in crime and climate change extending the warmer seasons. 

His coworkers all dash to fix their aprons and plaster on insincere smiles, but Cas doesn't bother. He’s the cook on duty, he rarely has to deal with the customers out front, so why would he bother trying to make himself look presentable? Between the hairnet, the sweat, and the burns covering his arms, he's not much to look at while he's on the clock and he knows it — especially not with the bitchface he can't seem to get rid of. 

“Two over easy eggs, extra bacon instead of homefries and Texas toast,” his manager hisses. “Now.”

“Do you want me to conjure them up? I'll need a sacrifice to get the spell to work, are you volunteering?” he deadpans. 

“Funny. I almost forgot you were funny. Just for that, you get to serve him his delicious meal. Enjoy.” She smiles smugly and walks out of the kitchen, leaving Cas slack-jawed and irritated. 

He mumbles “sure, and maybe I'll feed it to him, too” before getting to work actually cooking. One thing that not even some spoiled idiot could take away is Cas’ love of cooking, so each egg was perfectly cooked and seasoned, each slice of bacon the exact right amount of crispy. He slaps the butter on the toast and adds another piece of bacon just to stick it to his boss, then nudges the doors to the dining area open with his hip. 

It doesn't take much to find Dean — he’s decked out in a light grey suit with fucking sunglasses on. _How’d she know his eyes were green?_ He shakes his head and sighs quietly as he walks over, then sets the plate down in front of him with a sarcastic little bow. “Your breakfast, your highness. Would you like me to draw the blinds for you so you can take the sunglasses off without injuring your eyes?”

Dean looks at — who Cas assumes is — his hired muscle with an offended frown and then back up at Cas. “Yeah. Why don’t you get right on that, busboy?”

His eye twitches. “Bus— okay.” He picks up the extra piece of bacon he’d given Dean and takes a bite of it, nodding toward the windows. “Sorry, they’re just decorative. Keep the glasses on, it suits your personality.” He turns to leave and then stops, looking over his shoulder at the bodyguard. “Tell his highness that I'm the chef around here, and he should show me some respect.”

As he walks away, he hears Dean bust up laughing. He only makes it a foot more before someone whistles, and the long haired bodyguard yells an “oi!” to get his attention. 

There are a few other customers that look up as Dean stands and walks over, his plate in hand. “If you’re the chef, how’d you fuck up something so simple?” He slides the plate across the countertop. “This look scrambled to you… _chef?”_

“No, they don't. They look over easy, which is how you ordered them.” Cas stands his ground, crossing his arms over his chest. He's prepared to go the distance here with this one, but his boss bumps him a couple of inches to the side and starts profusely apologizing, and Cas turns with a bigger eye-roll to head back to the kitchen. 

Sure enough, she stomps back through the door. “Make him scrambled eggs, enough bacon to feed a family of four, and add jelly to the toast.”

“Fine.”

Cas bites his tongue and cooks the new order, then slides the plate toward her. “You take it this time.”

“No. I need you to reach into your lockbox and find a damn smile, then go apologize. Last thing we need is some arrogant rich person posting a yelpagram story about how shitty our diner is. We won’t survive that.” His boss actually looks worried, and it makes Cas soften just enough to suck it up. 

“I'll take care of it, Anna.” He sucks in a breath and picks the plate up, then heads out and sets it in front of Dean. “Scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. I…” _Oh fuck, this is harder than I thought it would be._ “I apologize for the misunderstanding, your food will be on the house today.”

Dean looks down at his plate and examines it before he looks over at his bodyguard. “Think he spit in this?” He turns toward Cas. “You spit in this?”

The implication is enough that Cas is seeing red — but he keeps his cool better than he expected. “No, I didn't spit in your food. That's highly unsanitary, and I take pride in what I do. I assure you, it's safe to eat and exactly as you ordered it.”

“Now that I think about it, I _did_ order over easy... didn’t I, J?” Dean chuckles as his bodyguard shakes his head at him and gives Cas an almost apologetic smile. “Alright, now it’s the taste test. You gonna stand here and watch? Should I put on a show?” He winks at Cas and takes a bite of bacon with the side of his teeth, and the site has Castiel’s fists clenching at his sides. 

_I've never wanted to fight someone so badly in my life._ And yet, as he notes the freckles spreading under those sunglasses, he realizes something else equally as jarring — he's never wanted to fuck someone so badly, either. His body jerks as that particular fact sinks in, and he shakes his head quickly. “No. Please let us know if you require anything more.”

He turns on his heels and races back to the kitchen, then scrubs his hands while he tries to steady his heartbeat. _Of all the spoiled fucks to ever walk into this diner, he's the spoiled fuck-iest. As if I'd get his order wrong… what the hell does he think this is? I've never gotten an ord—_

“Castiel!” Anna hisses. “What happened now?” She walks over and her whisper is nearly a yell. “Now he’s saying you forgot his sausage. When did he ask for sausage?!”

 _Oh, I'll give him saus—_ “He didn't. He's an asshole, Anna. Please don't make me go back out there, I'll punch him in those stupid designer sunglasses.” He starts cooking a couple of sausage links with a scowl, angrily shoving them across the grill with the tip of his spatula. “He's infuriating.”

“I know. Rich bastards.” She sighs and drops her head back. “I really want you to punch him. But we can’t. Just make the sausage links and— and he asked for you to bring them again. I’m sorry.”

The news isn't shocking. “Anna, if he complains again, I'm going to shove these down his throat. You know damn well there hasn't been a single thing wrong with the food.” 

But as requested, he takes the additional food out to Dean and sets the plate down — but this time, he sits in the booth across from him. “You asked for me?”

“About time. Were you trying to pocket my sausage?” He takes an obnoxiously big bite and eyes Cas. “You look a little strung up there...” he leans in and reads Cas’ name tag, “Cas—tiel?”

Though he's impressed that Dean pronounced his name correctly, it doesn't change anything. "Wouldn't you be if I walked into one of your many shops and told you that you were hillbilly-ing incorrectly?"

By the time Cas realizes he said that out loud, it's too late. 

“Hill—” Dean’s smile fades and he tosses the sausage back on the plate and shoves it away. “Fuck you.” He stands, adjusts his suit jacket and tosses a hundred dollar bill on the table. “Keep the change.”

The money feels a hell of a lot like an insult, so Cas swipes it off the table and stomps back to the kitchen, then hands it to Anna. “There. He's gone, and yes, I'm fully expecting you to fire me. Just give me five minutes to get some air and then I'll get my things.” 

He pushes his way through the few people back there and out the door to the alley behind the diner. The second the cool air hits him, he rips off his hairnet and throws it on the ground, then starts to pace with his hands tugging his hair. _Fuck. Fuck! I knew better than to let him get to me. Fuck!_

Of all the voices, the last one he expects to hear in that alleyway is Dean’s. “What’s wrong, Castiel? Hillbilly got your tongue?” His glasses are off now, as is his coat, and Cas doesn't have a single thing to lose.

“You’re an asshole. Do you think this is funny? Coming in here and complaining about food you _know_ is exactly the way you wanted it just to be a dick? What is _wrong_ with you?” The anger builds in his chest until Cas is walking forward and shoving Dean backward. “I'm going to lose my job because of this! And for what, so your pathetic ass could get in a couple of laughs?”

Dean shoves him back, knocking him back a few steps. “Stop being a little bitch about it. Maybe if _you_ could take a damn joke, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

"How is fucking with someone's life just for kicks supposed to be a joke!" Cas rights himself and rolls his shoulder, then draws back and punches Dean with every bit of strength he's got.

It feels good to know he caught him by surprise, and the shocked look on Dean’s face is worth five jobs at least, but his glee only lasts a few more seconds before Dean’s fist is connecting with his cheekbone and he’s being shoved back against the brick wall. “Nice jab, Cas.” 

Blood drips down the side of his cocky grin, and Cas notices then just how much Dean enjoys being hit.

It instantly makes him want to stop — being part of some asshole's masochistic game isn't on his list of things to do _ever,_ but when their bodies line up, Cas loses the ability to reason. 

His breathing speeds up and he tells himself to push Dean away — he really does — but his fingers end up looping themselves in Dean's belt loops instead. Without thinking, Cas leans in and kisses him, all teeth and tongue and rage.

Dean doesn’t fight him in the slightest. The copper taste of his blood touches Cas’ taste buds as he kisses harder, rutting his thick cock against Cas’ with a moan. Any thought of resistance disappears as Cas fumbles to pull off his apron, then starts undoing Dean’s slacks. He spins them both, pushing Dean roughly against the wall and biting that infuriating tongue when it slides back into his mouth. 

Dean pulls back a second later to look down at Cas’ hands, biting his lip as Cas shoves his pants down and grips his cock. “Fuck... you got big ass hands. Lemme see that dick.”

“I hate you,” Cas hisses as he pushes down the scrub pants he wears at work. His cock springs free, and he hates Dean a little bit more when the evidence of how badly he actually wants this is laid bare. He hardly gives Dean a chance to look before he’s dragging him forward again and bringing them together, stroking with one hand and tipping his head back as he releases a frustrated, yet satisfied moan. 

“Good. Damn, Cas... knew those hands would be fucking magic.” Dean grips Cas’ sides and thrusts against him with a moan, his body shivering just before he shoves Castiel back with a growl. “Fuck this...” Dean turns, exposing the most gorgeous ass Cas has ever seen. “Fuck me, Cas. Show me you hate me.”

Those two things don't seem to go together, but Cas has an absolute one-track mind at the moment. His breath catches in his throat as he steps up behind Dean and runs his hands over that smooth, beautiful skin. “Are you prepped? I have… nothing with me.”

Dean pulls out a small sample packet of lube and shoves it in his hand. “Don’t worry about prep. I hate it, just use enough of that and we’re good.”

His hands shake slightly as he tears the packet open, but he slicks himself and nudges two lubed fingers inside of Dean, spreading it around and then pulls back, his breathing ragged. “Hands against the wall.” 

“Yes, Sir.” Dean does as told and wiggles his ass, pushing back in anticipation. “C’mon, busboy. Make me feel it.”

Cas slaps Dean’s ass and watches the skin bounce, then rubs it as he pushes in. It's the tightest squeeze he's ever felt — it's overwhelming and perfect and — _“Fuck…”_

Dean’s laugh borderlines a growl and his hands clench against the brick. “Yeah... fuck... didn’t expect the damn chef to have such a big cock.” He pushes back into Cas, arching his back more and reaching down to stroke himself.

“Should've… known the…” Cas fumbles for words, fumbles for _thoughts_ as he drives himself in deeper, harder, scratching at Dean’s skin and fisting a hand in the front of his grey, perfectly pressed shirt. “Screw it.” He gives up on the insult and bites the back of Dean’s neck, leaving a mark, and Dean groans, releasing his throbbing cock as Cas bites down. When he bares his neck more, Cas peeks around at it, noting how it looks strained and purple like he’s been edging himself for hours. 

Dean whispers a series of, “Fuck, shit, fuck” over and over as he reaches down to grip the base of that desperate cock, tossing his ass back again at Cas.

“You better come for me, Winchester. You cost me my livelihood.” He adds his hand to Dean’s, forcing it to move as he stands on his toes to angle just right. As it is, he's barely hanging on by a thread — but this, _this_ he’s determined to do. “Give it to me, show me how good it feels.”

“Ah fuck... Castiel!” Dean whimpers as he comes, the long drawn-out groan afterward further proving he was edging before this. The thought of Dean giving it up to a stranger after all of that… to _him…_

He brings his come-covered hand up to Dean’s mouth and clamps it shut as he speeds up his thrusts, then comes with a yell that he muffles by biting into the back of Dean's shoulder. Every inch of his body is buzzing as he milks himself dry, and he’s only halfway through his comedown when he realizes exactly where he is. 

“Fuck,” he whispers with a shudder, then enjoys that tight ass for one more moment before letting himself slip out. He ceases contact, taking an unsteady step back. 

Dean has the nerve to turn around looking sheepish, and he rubs along the bite mark with a small smile. “So uh... thanks for that.” He rights his pants and licks his lips, huffing a small laugh. “You won’t be fired. And if you are... fuck it... you can be my personal chef.”

"I had very specific instructions not to piss you off or screw it up, and I managed to screw it up three times... and then I went off. I'm almost positive that I'm fired." He shifts on his feet — being Dean's personal chef sounds terrible, but if it comes with perks... "What would the job entail?"

“Cookin’ me food all day and fucking me hard when I talk too much shit. Pretty simple.” Dean shrugs and pulls out his phone, handing it to Cas. “Haven’t been fucked that good in... ever. And the food was actually delicious. I just— I needed... _that.”_ The blush that follows makes nearly every freckle pop out along his nose, and his eyes dart around nervously as he bites back a smile. “Still hate me?”

Cas sucks in a breath to speak, but tilts his head and pauses. “You… you did all of that on purpose?”

Dean brings his thumbnail up to his mouth and chews it with a gallic shrug. “Well... yeah. Were we not on the same page there?”

"The same — what?! How would I have _ever_ known that's..." He squints, getting angry all over again. "You're so... fucking... spoiled!" He shoves him again, growling with irritation. "You think you can just go fuck with people's lives like that?"

“Hey... hold on.” Dean holds out his hands in surrender. “Look, I thought you were in on it. I gave you the fuck-me eyes and everything.” He genuinely looks confused, but it isn’t enough to lessen the rage inside of Cas’ chest. “Look, m’sorry, alright? I didn’t— no one’s ever actually told me off before _or_ called me a hillbilly. Normally they play the part, we meet out back and they take it out on my ass. I pay them and we all move on with our lives, but... it’s never been like that. No one’s ever punched me before but that shit got me hard as hell.”

It's an information overload, but suddenly, everything makes sense. “Fine. Where’s my payment then?” He’s still shaking slightly from anger, but the more he thinks about it, the better that job offer is sounding. _Unless he's going to keep doing it with others._

Dean’s face falls slightly and he straightens, reaching his his pocket and pulling out his wallet. “Here.” He counts out a grand and holds it out. “You’re gonna at least think about the job offer right?”

"No," he lies defensively, but he also doesn't reach out to take the money. It feels... wrong. Instead, he adds his number in Dean's phone and hands it back without calling himself. "Text me tomorrow when the urge to slam your face into something has dissipated a little, because yes, I need a job." Even if by some miracle he isn't fired yet, he doesn't really want to work there anymore, anyway.

“Alright.” His hand is still out and he shakes it at Cas. “Just take the money, and if you don’t want it tomorrow then whatever, but if you decide you still hate me, you have some cash. Just don’t— don’t out me on social media or some shit. Everyone knows I’m gay, they don’t need to know my kinks. I’d feel better if you took the money.”

Above anything else, that offends Cas the most… but at least it's something he understands. He steps forward, taking the money but not looking away from the gorgeous, confusing, infuriating man in front of him. “Money or no money, I would never do that to someone. Our kinks are no one’s business but our own and our partners. It's cruel to shame someone, and even more so to allow others to do it. Your secret is safe with me.”

That beautifully sculpted face relaxes and he nods at Cas with a small smile. “So I gotta—” he points behind him with his thumb and backpedals slightly — “you good? Still wanna hit me?” His smile widens at Cas’ eye roll and he stops backing up. “Thanks, Cas. I’ll see you tomorrow. No way you can deny me now.”

The truth sinks in, and it's actually hard not to follow him. Whatever his is, whoever _he_ is… Cas is in. He wants it, whether he's proud or happy about that fact or not. “I don't know where to find you, so… I'll _talk_ to you tomorrow.” He fixes his pants and looks around for his hairnet, but ducks back inside after an unsuccessful search. 

Anna walks over with a solemn expression and crosses her arms. “Are you calmer now?”

"Define calmer." Cas scratches the back of his head and takes a deep breath. "Yes? Maybe?"

“Look. I don’t want to fire you. You’re a great cook. But you can not go off on customers. They’re all assholes, especially the rich ones. I personally think they need a good punch to the face — or a spanking if they look as good as Dean — but regardless, it’s our job to serve them.”

 _Does it help if I did all three of those things?_ He remembers his promise to Dean and simply nods once. “I understand, but Anna… you've met me. I don't think Dean will give us a negative review, but I can't make any promises for the future. People like that get under my skin.”

“Well, I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Where’s your hairnet? Did you torch it in the alley?”

It takes Cas a second to realize he's actually _not_ being fired, and that he doesn't need to take Dean up on his offer. He can continue working here and pretend that this — and Dean — never happened. “Um… I lost it out there, but…” _I'll never have to look in those stupidly green eyes or see his irritating freckles again. I doubt he'll ever come back in here. I could just put this all behind me... all I have to do is get another hairnet and say I'm sorry, and I can go back to work like nothing ever happened._ “I quit.”

The words are out before he can stop them, and he’s got his apron halfway off just on instinct. “You— what? Castiel?” Anna’s face is pure shock but she doesn’t seem angry, just confused. “Are you sure?”

 _No. Not at all._ "Yes, I'm sure. You've been a great boss, but... this isn't the job for me." He sets his apron down and ignores the way his heart is thumping erratically. He's never quit a job like this before in his life — and he doesn't even know if Dean was serious. _I could be throwing away a steady job for no reason. No, no... I can't think like that. Life happens when you're busy sitting around on your ass... or something._ "I'm sorry, Anna."

“It’s okay. You’re a great chef. If you change your mind... well, you always were stubborn weren’t you? No way you’ll change your mind.” She smiles sadly at him and touches his arm, and it actually gives him courage.

 _I can do this. Even if he wasn't serious.. I'll_ **_make_ ** _him serious._


	2. Chapter 2

Waiting around for Dean to text is infuriating. Unemployment is already rough and it hasn't even been a full day yet — he’s still wearing the boxers he had on the day before, hasn't shaved his scruff, hasn't even eaten much at all. His mind — and body, apparently — are preoccupied with one thing and one thing only: Dean fucking Winchester. 

When his phone finally buzzes, he hurls himself over the arm of the couch to grab it so quickly that his boxers twist and nearly slide down below his ass. He doesn't stop to laugh at himself, he can't — this text could change his life or ruin it. 

**785-555-0128:** _ I’m lookin’ for a busboy. About 6 feet tall, messy ass hair, bluer than blue eyes and a nice fat cock. Can you point me in the right direction? _

He grins even though it's not exactly what he wanted to hear. Employment can wait. He saves the number quickly and bites his lip as he contemplates how to respond. 

**Cas:** _ I haven't seen any busboys around here, no. I've seen a highly rated chef that fits the rest of the description, though.  _

**Dean:** _ I’ll take him. Cravin’ some eggs ;) _

**Dean:** _ Scrambled. _

**Cas:** _ I'm never making you eggs again unless you actually hire me. I'm going to have a tick every time I hear the word “scrambled” now thanks to you.  _

Dean takes a moment to respond and when he does, it makes Cas smile.

**Dean:** _ I just laughed so hard I tripped and dropped my phone. Thanks for that. _

**Dean:** _ and you’re already hired, asshat. Just come fuck me already. Edged like three times and I can’t come without you.  _

**Dean:** _ 401 Rose Court  _

_ gate code is 110520 _

The pep talk he gives himself only takes about thirty seconds. He's not surprised that one of the Winchesters lives in Rose Court, but it's an intimidating neighborhood for poor people. He has no idea what to wear, so he closes his eyes and pulls a random shirt from his closet and chooses jeans to go with it, then snatches his keys from the desk by the door and heads out without a second thought. 

When he pulls up, he types in the code wrong twice and a menacing looking guard comes out of nowhere to knock on his passenger window. Cas jumps, but rolls the window down and leans over. “Um… I was invited, I promise. Just have clumsy fingers, I guess.”

“You sure about that, lad? Name?” The British guard looks at his car and then in his cellphone when Cas says his name and why he’s there. “Alright, in you go, and park near the cherry blossoms.”

“Oh, you mean I was actually on your list?” he says monotonously. “I've never been on a list before.” Cas rolls his eyes as the guard opens the gate and parks near the cherry blossoms.  _ Thank the gods for those signs outside of Bath and Body Works… I'd have parked on the gardenias without it.  _

He gets out of his car and takes in the massive house in front of him, then exhales hard as he scales the steps and knocks on the door with the huge brass knocker. 

Dean’s bodyguard answers, his hair is pulled back today and his smile is much more genuine than it was in the diner. “Come on in. Dean special order some eggs or something?” He bumps Cas playfully with his elbow and leads the way deeper into the house, the unmistakable sound of a record player beckoning them forward. “He’s in here. Probably floor napping since Rory’s on.”

“I only understood about half of those words but thank you…”

“You can call me Jask.” He winks, pushing open a door and gesturing for Cas to enter. 

_ I doubt I'll be calling you anything. This arrangement will never work, it can't. This is insane.  _ “Thank you.” He steps in, searching for Dean even as the room itself threatens to distract him. 

It’s obviously Dean’s game room, the pool table looks like it’s received better care than a football player's Super Bowl ring, and the full bar in the corner has Cas considering day drinking. But Dean is still nowhere to be found, or at least, he's not until his upper body shoots up and his head becomes visible over the oversized couch. “There you are.” Dean smiles, standing up off the floor and walking over.

He's got on a black and white striped shirt and white pants, and he looks better than any guy in any magazine. Cas looks around like he's suddenly not sure he belongs here, then swallows and steps forward to meet him. “I had some trouble at the gate, but yes. Here I am.” 

“Did you?” Dean stops only inches away and and his eyes travel around Cas’ face. “Did you sass my gatekeeper?”

_ Yes.  _ “No.” Cas stands his ground, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your gate was sassing  _ me,  _ and I simply responded appropriately.” The scent of Dean’s cologne knocks him off balance internally, and the change is visible in his eyes. “How many times did you edge for me again?”

“Well, now it’s... four times.” Dean grips Cas’ shirt and pulls him in, but before their mouths touch, he turns away and walks toward the bar. “Did I say it was for you?” He tilts his head and Cas feels the urge to punch him again when he turns around with a smug smile.

"You invited me," he growls quietly. "Who else would it be for?"

Dean just grins and pulls out some fancy soda in glass bottles, walking back to hand one to Cas. “Did I? Oh yeah.” He shrugs and takes a drink, throwing a hand toward the couch. “Sit. Time for your official interview.”

"You said I was already hired, and you called me an asshat." He sighs, ignoring the way his cock is chubbing up. "But fine, I suppose that makes more sense than anything else that's happened so far." He sits on the left side of the couch, suddenly nervous again.

Dean takes another long drink and eyes Cas as he sits on the recliner next to him, his eyes dancing with amusement. “You haven’t drank your soda yet. Don’t be rude... asshat.”

"I don't prefer carbonation," he counters, but takes the sip nonetheless. "It's not drugged, is it?"

“Yeah. I’m drugging you so you can fuck up more eggs,” Dean deadpans and sets his soda aside. “What else can you cook? And do you ever bottom?” 

_ Weirdest interview ever.  _ “I can cook anything. It's not a difficult task, and… yes, occasionally.”

“Alright. What about baking?” Dean asks, interlocking his fingers in front of him and bracing on his knees.

If there's one thing he absolutely knows about Dean Winchester without having to hear it from his mouth... is that the man loves pie. It's probably the most publicized fact about him. "Any kind of pie you'd like."

It makes him smile and he sits up again, running his hand up and down his leg while he thinks. “Just one more question. Can you keep up with my appetite? Food and sex. I need to get off at least twice a day and I eat like five times.”

He definitely expected at least one of those numbers to be higher, so he relaxes. "Yes. What will my hours be and what will I be compensated? I have bills."

“You’ll be fucking me. Isn’t that payment enough?” Dean tosses his head back with an obnoxious laugh at what Cas assumes is his bitchiest bitch face ever, and then he holds out a hand. “Man, you’re hot when you’re angry. Whatever your damn salary was at the diner, triple it and call it even.”

“Triple?” Cas’ eyes widen, everything else forgotten for the moment. He was the best paid employee at the diner by far, but this?  _ Holy shit.  _ “Deal. Will I be responsible for both orgasms, then?”

“At least two of them, yes. Can you handle it?” Dean bites his lip and sits back, showing Cas he’s already getting hard. “I haven’t had one at all today, Cas. How about you show me what else that sassy ass mouth can do, busboy?”

His eyes flash and he stands up, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. "Are you against being gagged or choked?"

His cock visibly twitches in his lap and he presses it down, shaking his head no in response. “Not at all.”

“Good.” Cas shucks his shirt onto the floor and drops to his knees, tilting his head and slowly sliding his hands up Dean’s thighs, over his shirt and up that chiseled chest until he's wrapping one of them around his throat. The other dips back down to free Dean’s cock from his slacks, but he doesn't touch it. Not yet. “Call me a busboy… one more fucking time.”

“Put that dick in your mouth and shut-up...  _ busboy.” _ Dean grunts around his hand, pressing forward into it and Cas squeezes the sides as he bites his lip. He has no intention on blowing Dean at all here — not now, anyway. He wraps his free hand around Dean’s cock and strokes, keeping him pinned back against the recliner by his neck. 

“I… am not a busboy. I've never been a busboy, and I'll never  _ be  _ a busboy. I’m a  _ chef.”  _ He twists his hand, jerking Dean’s pulsing cock roughly and locking his gaze on that pretty face. 

Dean releases a gurgled, strained noise as he ruts into his hand, searching for more of Cas. It’s so intoxicatingly beautiful that Cas can hear a ringing in his ears that drowns out the sound of someone entering the room and hastily slamming the door as they take their leave. Whoever that was doesn't matter. 

“If you ever want my mouth on you, you will learn to treat me with a little more respect.” Cas swipes his thumb over Dean’s wet slit and leans down just enough to spit on it, groaning at the sound it makes sliding all over Dean’s beautiful cock. He's already starting to regret his decision not to blow him, but the day is young, and this is only half of his responsibility.  _ I'll get there soon enough.  _

He brings his attention back to Dean’s face as he tightens his grip with both hands and speeds up his strokes, then stops completely. “Fuck my fist, Dean.”

“Y—yeah... okay, Cas. Fuck.” He pushes into Cas’ hand more, nearly completely cutting off his airway as his hips begin to move, fucking into Cas’ tight fist.

“Mm. What a good little brat you are.” He tips his head back, letting out a breath far steadier than any he thought he was capable of. “That's it, Dean. Don't stop, you're already so close. Come for me.” 

“I— Ca— uunngh!” Dean’s eyes slam shut as he comes, his body trembling as some squirts past Cas’ face to an unknown location and the rest drips down his hand and in between each of his fingers.

He can't help himself, he licks his palm clean and then slides two covered fingers into Dean’s mouth. “Now suck, you made a mess.” 

The fact that he complies with ease has Cas’ own cock twitching. Dean pulls them out of his mouth to rush out a “comeonme” and then sucks them back inside, his body still quivering with aftershocks.

"Fuck," he whispers, fumbling with his left hand to get his jeans unbuttoned. He's a disaster as he climbs up to straddle Dean's lap, and even more when he starts stroking himself as Dean sucks his fingers. His moans quickly turn ragged. "Fuck, fuck... good boy. How does it taste?"

He moans his answer, sliding that tongue up and down Cas’ fingers hungrily. It feels so damn good that Cas is coming way too damn fast, all over those stupid black and white stripes. He shudders in frustration at the fact that Dean was wearing a shirt at all — he wants to come mark every inch of Dean’s skin. 

Dean tosses his head back with a sated sigh and his eyes flutter closed. “Mmm. Yeah... you’re doin’ good so far, Chef.”

Cas smiles for the first time and huffs a laugh. "See? That's so much better than busboy... particularly because you say it like an insult. Busboys make the world go round, you know." He climbs off, fixing his clothes as best as he can.

“Mmhm. Spoken like a real  _ not  _ busboy.” He grins lazily and looks down at his clothes. “Now m’hungry. You know where the kitchen is? Ehh, you’ll find it. House isn’t that big.” Dean stands and tucks himself away and walks to the door. “Gonna shower.”

There's not much he can do but nod and start planning what he's going to cook — because the only thing he really wants to say is that Dean’s a fucking asshole for looking down on busboys, or anyone he deems to be less than he is. But that's an argument for another day, so Cas wanders around the house until he finds the kitchen and starts rooting through the cupboards. He distracts himself with thoughts of all the really great bussers he's had supporting him over the years and vows to treat whoever Dean has working for him better than Dean does… but that leads him to wonder who else Dean is sleeping with.  _ The maid? The assistant that deals with his dry cleaning? Jask?  _

For some reason, that thought irritates him, and he's tossing the bacon on top of the cheeseburger he grilled up in what feels like no time at all. 

Dean walks in wearing only some gray sweatpants and he’s sniffing the air like a puppy. “Mmm smells awesome in here, Cas.”

"Of course it does." Cas tosses some fries on the plate and passes it to Dean, then washes his hands. "Do you have somewhere private you can eat that?"

“Whole house is private.” He nods toward the dining room and takes a seat as Cas enters, his eyes nearly taking the shape of a heart as he picks up the burger.

Cas doesn't say much as he waits for Dean to take the first bite. He wants to point out that someone already attempted to interrupt their first session, and he'd prefer it didn't happen again, but it's also not a deal breaker if it does. When Dean moans around the meat, Cas shivers and climbs under the table, gently pushing Dean's legs apart. "Keep eating. That plate needs to be clean when I come back up. Do you understand?"

His green eyes widen and he nods like an adorable bobble head as he spreads his legs. “Fuck... you’re awesome.”

"Hm. I know." He palms Dean's cock through his sweats and leans in to breathe hot air through the fabric until it becomes damp, then tugs the waistband down until that cock springs free. He takes a single moment to appreciate — and also lament — the fact that he's about to suck Dean Winchester of all people off, but his entire self wants it more than he'll ever admit out loud. He laps at the tip and sucks him in, rolling his tongue around the curves and veins until he can't stop himself from taking him deeper.

“Fuck... Cas...” He can hear Dean drop his burger as he slouches in his seat with a groan, his hips rolling until he's poking the back of Cas’ throat. “Knew that mouth was more than sass.”

He hums, low and long, smiling around him as the vibrations make Dean gasp.  _ My mouth can do a lot of things, Winchester.  _ Cas taps Dean’s leg to remind him to eat and then glides forward as he opens his throat, taking him in completely. He holds there until he hears Dean chewing again and then starts to move slowly, letting himself get to know every inch. 

He can feel Dean squirm and his feet attempt to spread further for Cas. The moan he releases this time is for much more than the bacon cheeseburger, and it sounds so beautiful Cas has to palm himself.

The first little taste of precome has Cas sucking greedily — all plans to tease him thrown out. He wants this, needs this. He slides off with a sharp intake of breath and starts stroking as he catches his breath, squeezing tightly and diving back in sooner than he meant too. 

Dean releases a guttural growl, his hips canting further into Cas’ mouth. “Ah, Cas... shit... I’ll be good... please don’t—” 

The words awaken something in Cas that he didn't expect. He wants to please Dean — wants to take care of him, wants to give him what he craves... this isn't about proving a point anymore, it's about filling a need. He squeezes Dean's calf assuringly, hoping he takes that to mean Cas won't be pulling off, then sucks like he's starving for the load Dean's about to blow down his throat.

“Casss...” Dean’s body jerks with his release and he fills Castiel’s mouth and throat with warm, delicious come. The  _ ahh _ noise Dean makes is so sinful it has Cas sucking harder, needing every single drop Dean has to offer and he doesn’t pull off until he’s trembling under him and pushing on his head. “Fuck... you’re fucking hired... forever. Thank you.”

Just to give Dean a little kick in the ass, Cas climbs out from under the table and stretches. “I’ll consider the offer.” 

“Consi—” Dean stands, looking offended and then he shoves Cas against the wall. “Consider it after this.” He drops to his knees, nuzzling Cas’ crotch with his mouth and biting over his bulge before pulling him out and sucking the head in before Cas could even attempt to play hard to get.

The pleasure drowns out the shock pretty quickly and Cas tips his head back against the wall, threading his fingers through Dean’s very pullable hair. “Fuck… you should've said you'd be reciprocating… I'll take any chance to gag that bratty little mouth.” He snaps his hips, holding Dean’s head in place. 

And Dean takes it like he was born to, his eyes rolling back as his throat relaxes to take Cas further. His hands sit in his lap completely relaxed as he hums around Cas’ length and his nose brushes against his pelvis.

Every irritating thing Dean’s ever said flashes through Cas’ mind and he fucks that infuriating, beautiful face with a low growl until his mind blanks, and all he can think about or see are those green eyes. “Dean, you're so… fuck, you're so pretty. So good. I—” he pulls back, spurting come on Dean’s lips and cheeks.

He doesn’t miss the smile on those gorgeous pouty lips, nor the tongue that slides across them to lick up his come. It’s absolutely breathtaking... and then he speaks.

“I’m pretty, huh?”

Cas rolls his eyes and gently puts his foot against Dean’s chest, tipping him backward. “I only said that because I was afraid you'd bite it off,” he lies.

Based on Dean’s annoying smirk, he doesn’t believe him, and he grabs Cas’ foot before he can put it back down. He falls on top of him and barely has time to catch himself before he smashes Dean completely, but it's a close call. They're so close now that it wouldn't take any effort at all to kiss him — that is,  _ if  _ Cas were inclined to do such a thing. Which he's not… not at all. 

“That was rude, Dean,” Cas whispers, flicking his eyes down to Dean’s lips.

“Mmhm.” Dean leans up and kisses him, his rough hands sliding up Cas’ shirt and pinning their bodies together. Before Cas can even wrap his mind around how good it feels to be on Dean like this, the brat is biting his bottom lip and tugging.

_ What… the hell… is happening?  _ Cas rolls his hips as he deepens the kiss, not wanting to stop it now that it's started. He could've kept going until they were coming all over each other, but that bastard bodyguard pushes open the door and clears his throat. 

“Uh… Mr. Winchester, you've got company.”

Dean’s head thumps against the floor with a sigh and he looks over at Jask. “Is it my dad? If not, tell them to wait.”

“It's your dad. I never would've bothered you if it was anyone else, you know that.” Jask shifts, then peeks out the door. “Want me to stall him?”

Cas’ blood runs a little cold — he’s only met the eldest Winchester once, and it didn't go well at all.  _ How did I forget who he is? _

“Goddamnit. Yeah, tell him I was interviewing a new cook.” He taps Cas to get up and then he adjusts his sweats before sitting back down in front of his half eaten burger. Jask leaves, and Dean nods at the chair next to him for Cas to sit. “I only ate half. Will you punish me later?” His grin is almost endearing, but he’s still shirtless, his hair is thoroughly fucked and if that isn’t enough, his cheeks are flushed. All the evidence points to a mind blowing orgasm, and not at all to him interviewing  _ anyone _ for  _ any _ job. His father can walk in here any second, and he seems completely unbothered.

Cas stands, his mind moving a little too fast for his own good. “I should go. This was only supposed to be an interview and I ended up working almost a full day.” He fixes his clothes hastily and clears his throat. “When would you like me to start?”

“Well, you basically already did. Do you want cash or you wanna give me your bank information? I can have some legitimate paperwork drawn up for you by tomorrow.” He looks disappointed as he stands, and pushes the plate of food away softly. “Can yo— will you be back in the morning?” It’s the most insecure Cas has ever heard him sound, and Cas actually softens. 

“Yes, I can be here as early as you like. I don't sleep much. As for the money… we’ll say that thousand you gave me was an advance. Deal?” He steps forward, holding out his hand to Dean. 

Dean eyes it, reaching out to shake it with a small smile on his lips. “Gonna leave the sex stuff off the paperwork, though. Deal?” 

Their hands are still shaking as the door bursts open and John Winchester walks in, followed closely by an apologetic-looking Jask. He mouths sorry as John speaks: “Is this the new cook? I’d like some tea.” 

Dean releases his hand and his smile is completely gone. “He isn’t a servant, and he was just leaving. Still got paperwork to do. J, can you get him some friggin tea? Not too heavy. Wouldn’t want to hurt his precious wrist.”

“You got it, boss. Uh… Mr. Novak, if you wanna come with me, I'll show you out.” Jask salutes Dean and his father, and Cas follows even though he wasn't quite ready to leave yet. 

He stops at the door and turns back, licking his lips slowly. “I'll see you in the morning, Mr. Winchester, and I think the changes we've made to the paperwork will be just fine.” He hopes Dean understands what he meant, and spares one final look at John before heading through the door with Jask. 

_ What am I getting myself into? _


	3. Chapter 3

The fact that they never agreed on a time has Cas tossing and turning through the night. He's worried that if he's late, he won't be able to keep the position, and he's fully come to the conclusion that he wants it. _I have access to fresh ingredients, brand new appliances, no one getting in my way… and the sex is phenomenal. I'd be a fucking idiot not to love this._

He finally gives up on sleep and showers around four in the morning, then drives over to Dean’s and lets himself in through the gate. He spots Jask outside the front door and gets out as quietly as he can, heading over. 

“Wasn't expecting to see you this early,” Jask comments. 

“Well, I wasn't sure, and I figured it was better to be early than late. I can get a head start on breakfast if you don't mind letting me in.” He doesn't ask what Jask is doing outside instead of in. Someone like Dean likely has his fair share of trouble surrounding him. 

“Not at all.” Jask turns to the door and opens it, walking inside with him. “He normally wakes up around nine though... maybe even later today, but he’ll need some greasy ass food if y’know what I mean.”

Cas smiles as he walks softly through the house toward the kitchen. "Like bacon, you mean. I can handle a greasy breakfast, I worked at the diner for years." He has his doubts that he'll be able to recreate the same flavor without an hour's worth of grease already on the grill, but he'll manage.

“Yes. Bacon, lots of it.” Jask follows still and sits on one of the stools. “That’s a nice shiner you got there. Dean do that?” He smiles knowingly.

The pain in his face makes a lot more sense as he remembers how recent that fight actually was. “Yes, he did. I'm a little offended that the punch I threw didn't seem to do much.”

Jask chuckles, his tongue between his teeth. “Yeah, he takes a lot of punches. Got in a fight last night, too.” He shakes his head at Dean, and Cas immediately frowns. 

“Like… a _fight_ fight, or a… fight like the one he picked with me?”

“No, a real one. You’ll see. His dad always gets under his skin and then his brother showed up. It was a big ol’ thing.” The bodyguard shrugs as if he’s used to it, but it makes Cas a little uneasy. 

He busies himself getting acquainted with the kitchen for a moment and turns back to Jask. “Do you know if I'll be cooking for anyone else? You, any other staff members?”

“He was very clear you were just _his_ cook, but that’s probably up to you. Maybe it will be in the paperwork, actually? I don’t know, sorry. You wanna cook for other people? He eats enough to feed a small army.”

Cas shrugs, pulling out some of the things he'll need. "If there are hungry people in this house and he doesn't mind me using his ingredients, then why not? I love to cook, that's why I do it for a living."

“Well then... I could eat. Have you met anyone else around here yet?” Jask asks, spinning himself on the chair.

Grateful for the distraction, Cas starts to cook. The movements feel good, like exercising long-forgotten muscles even though it's only been a day. “I haven't, no. Honestly, I've never felt _less_ prepared for a job in my life. I still don't really understand the arrangement, I have no idea who else even works for him, and I still want to smack him at least 80% of the time.” He pauses, leaning forward against the counter as the griddle heats up. “What am I doing here?”

“No clue. I thought it would be rude if I asked that.” Jask huffs a laugh and starts playing with a flower from the tabletop. “I want to smack him 80% of the time too, if that helps. He needs you to be firm as fuck, alright? Draw the lines for him. Or he’ll just be... Dean.”

Cas goes back to cooking with his brows pinched. “I wasn't hired to be his Dom. And if I was, he should've told me that.” 

“No, not like that. I mean... I don’t think? No, I was meaning like... that’s what we have to do. People around him. Lay down your lines and then he stays on them. Otherwise, he’s just a mess.”

 _That sounds exactly like he needs a Dom, and I'm not sure I can be that._ He stays quiet as he finishes cooking a simple breakfast for Jask, and then sits across from him when he brings him the plate. “What happened to Dean’s last chef?”

Jask takes a bite and shrugs. “They got in a fight. Only they never fucked before or after.”

"So he doesn't fuck all of his employees?"

“No. Never. I don’t know what he’s doing here, honestly... he probably doesn’t either. I just know he really wants you and he doesn’t know how to just ask someone on a date like a normal adult.” Jask takes another bite and chews quickly. “Not his fault. Never had a normal life, so...”

On one hand, Cas wants to argue that not having a normal life isn't an excuse to act like a spoiled playboy. But on the other, he'd be lying if he said the attention doesn't feel good. “Oh. Well, to be fair… I'd have said no if he would've asked me on a date.”

“I know.” Jask laughs much too loudly at that and then takes a bite, talking around the food. “He knows too.” 

“Who’s _he?”_ Dean’s voice interrupts as he enters the kitchen. He looks like he literally rolled out of bed and he’s still shirtless, but now he’s wearing red sweats. As hot as he looks, Cas’ vision narrows in on all the bruises and scratches along his gorgeous face and body.

Jask tries to deflect, but Cas is on his feet and standing in front of Dean before it even registers in his brain that he moved at all. “Who did this to you?”

Dean looks confused and slightly taken aback, but Cas doesn’t miss the look in his eyes and it’s obvious no one’s ever cared enough to ask him such a question. “Uh... Sammy. But he was drunk, so...” Dean shrugs.

“Your brother Sam?” Cas reaches up and gently touches Dean’s face. “I hardly think being drunk is an excuse for this. Come on, we need to clean up some of these cuts and then I'll make you breakfast.” He tugs Dean to the bathroom and pushes him down onto the closed toilet seat, then begins searching the cupboards for a first-aid kit.

“What are you lookin’ for? Normally we just clean the cuts with some vodka. I cleaned ‘em all last night. You should see his face.” Dean grins proudly and winks at Cas.

“Vodka.”

When Dean agrees, Cas shakes his head and gives up his search. “I'm going to make you breakfast and then go to the store.” He can't help but think that if the punch he landed didn't leave so much as a bruise, Sam must have really laid into him, and all it does is make him sad. “Come on.”

Dean follows, reaching out a hand behind him and grabbing his ass with a pleased grunt. “I think you got another job to do first, Cas.”

Cas turns, remembering what Jask said. "No, I'm going to make you breakfast, go to the store, and I'll make you come after we've cleaned you up. Do you understand?"

Dean nods and pushes down the already forming bulge in his sweats. “Alright.” He motions for Cas to start walking and doesn’t speak again until they’re entering into the kitchen. “I like it when you get all bossy.”

 _Maybe I can do this, then._ “Then be a good boy and actually listen. Sit.” He nods to the chair and goes to wash his hands, smiling to himself when he hears Jask whispering to Dean. He's not sure if he wants to know what they're talking about, but when he turns, both of them are staring at him. “What?”

“You have a nice ass. J agrees.” Dean smiles a wide toothless grin and then starts laughing.

There's one, tiny second where Cas wonders if Jask would fuck him since Dean's made it pretty clear he's a bottom — but he pushes that out of his mind and offers them both an eye-roll. "You both need a hobby." He tosses the bacon on and gathers what he needs for scrambled eggs, half prepared for Dean to say something snarky when he pulls the carton out.

“I have a hobby.” Dean mumbles and turns to Jask. _“You_ need a hobby.” 

Jask scoffs. “I have more hobbies than you do. _You_ get a hobby.”

“What do you do? Pine over that friggin hot barista with the pretty eyes?”

“No,” Jask says forcefully, but it looks like a lie. Cas chuckles as he continues cooking and shakes his head at the two of them. “I do other things,” Jask continues. “I play basketball… I went kayaking that one time… jumped out of a plane last month.” He snaps his fingers and points at Dean, seemingly satisfied with himself. 

Cas flips the bacon. “So, you're an adrenaline junkie? That's less of a hobby and more of a death wish.”

“Ehh, it’s a hobby. I’ll let ya have it, J. Lemme see... I can kick your ass in basketball, though... Pool too, but I’m not jumpin’ out of no plane. I’d be happy if I never flew in one again.”

The argument that sparks after about who’s better at basketball makes Cas actually laugh. At the end of the day, Dean’s not that different from some of the jocks he went to high school with — and he can deal with that. Iron fist, take no shit… and at least he gets to fuck this one. 

He takes Dean’s breakfast to him when it's ready and then sits down, giving Jask a look that he hopes says “go away.” When the brute doesn't move, Cas clears his throat quietly, but all Jask does is ask if he needs a glass of water. “No, Jask. I don't need water.” He sighs, rubbing his chin for a moment. “Would you mind stepping out so I can talk to Dean?”

It finally clicks in his brain and he looks between them a couple of times before he stands. “Have fun, kids.” 

Dean chuckles but it’s muffled by at least three pieces of bacon hanging out of his mouth. Cas just smiles with pursed lips as Jask walks away, and then turns his attention back to Dean. “I made breakfast for Jask this morning. Is that alright?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t gonna make you cook for anyone else, but if you don’t mind. You think I’m payin’ you enough for that, or...?” He takes another bite and keeps his eyes on Cas.

“Yes,” he says quickly. “In the interest of honesty, you're paying me too much as it is. I don't mind cooking, though I also wanted to ask… do you have someone else that will do the dishes? I hate those, but will do them if it's expected of me.”

“Nah, I got a cleaner. You haven’t met Missouri?” Cas shakes his head and Dean huffs. “I think I need to give you a tour. But you don’t gotta do anything for anyone else. You can tell them to fuck off and I won’t fire you.”

Cas highly doubts he’ll ever do such a thing, but he nods nonetheless. “Yes, I think a tour would be good. And… this is sort of both a professional and personal question, so you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but… have you ever considered finding a Dom?”

“A what?” Dean asks curiously. “What do they do?”

The question catches him off guard. “Um… Well, they can be a lot of things depending on what their sub needs.” He thinks about going into detail but shuts up, fearing that Dean would be _too_ interested and fire him in favor of someone else. “Nevermind. How many people do you employ?”

“Uh...” Dean’s one-track mind seems distracted by the question, and he thinks about it while he eats more. “So, there’s Missouri, she’s the cleaner. Benny’s another guard, but he’s normally walkin’ the grounds and shit, or he drives us. You... you know what you do. Uh... oh, Lisa helps me manage my money and shit... I dunno exactly.” He takes a few more bites. “Ketch does the gate. You met him. I think that’s all? I mean, someone comes and does the yard and shit but I dunno, Lisa handles that, too. Charlie works our social media and interviews and shit. That’s all.”

 _Maybe I should've been taking notes._ “That's a long list… Well, longer than I expected, anyway.” Cas once again feels like he stepped into something he has no business being in, but he couldn't walk away now if he tried. “Okay, so Missouri, Benny, Lisa, Ketch, Charlie. Some random for the yard, and I've obviously met Jask.” 

“Yup. Charlie works from home mostly but she comes every Monday to catch me up on social media and shit. I never go on there so anything you saw “me” post, was never me.” He takes a bite of eggs and bites back a grin. “I wanted sunny side up." 

Cas twitches. “You complained about the ones you ordered at the diner.” 

Dean barks a laugh at Cas’ twitch and reaches a hand over to squeeze his thigh playfully. “So we goin’ to the store after this? I’ll drive.”

With a sigh, he nods. “Yes, but I don't have a leash big enough for a human, so please behave.”

Dean rolls his eyes and finishes his food just as a woman walks in the kitchen with a towel over her shoulder. “Hey, Missouri. This is Cas. Cas, this is Missouri.” He slides his plate at her with an annoying smirk and she shuffles over to slap him upside the head.

“Boy, I told you to put the damn dishes in the sink. I help you clean, I’m not your maid.” She shakes her head at Dean and holds a hand out to Cas. “It’s nice to meet you, honey.”

Cas smiles and shakes her hand happily — anyone that puts Dean in his place is alright with him. “I'll try to contain the messes I make in the kitchen.”

“Thank you. Can you believe this one? If you can’t find his silver spoon, check his ass.” She pushes his head again and walks over to the sink.

It’s obvious Dean is amused and that’s just the relationship they have, because he looks completely unbothered by her comment. “She loves me.” The _pfft_ sound she makes has him laughing out loud and he stands to take the plate over to the sink as told, kissing her cheek before returning to his seat.

"Speaking of..." Cas licks his lips and jerks his head toward the door. The mere mention of Dean's ass has him wanting to break his own rule and touch him before their store trip, so the second they're alone, he slides his hand in the back of Dean's sweats. "Any spoons up there I should know about?"

“Nah... Thought you were gonna make me wait?” Dean leans in and kisses him, tugging on his jeans.

The tiniest smirk crosses Cas’ face as he stops Dean’s hands. “Who said I’m not?” He palms him, biting Dean’s bottom lip and sucking it. His grip gets a little tighter as he rubs Dean’s cock, and when he can feel it fully harden under the fabric, he drops down to his knees. “Let me see it.”

Without hesitation, he shoves his sweats down below his ass, his hardened cock springing free and slapping Cas’ chin. It makes Dean giggle like a child and he ruts forward to sliding the head along Cas’ jaw.

If it didn't turn him on so damn much, he'd punish Dean for it. _Whatever that even means. I'm not a damn Dom._ He flicks his tongue over the shaft and sucks the tip in, turning challenging eyes up to Dean and not pulling off until Dean starts to move. "No, stay still. You don't get to come for me yet."

Dean whimpers, and it nearly has Cas caving then and there, but then he nods like the good boy he truly is and stares down at Cas with lust-blown eyes.

The obedience has Cas hardening a little more, but he ignores himself completely as he takes his time sucking Dean. When he can feel he's right on the edge, Cas pulls back with a satisfied smirk. “Okay. Now we can go to the store.”

“Ah, fuck, Cas.” Dean grips the base of his throbbing cock and groans, tossing his head back with his eyes squeezed shut. “Can you fuck me in the store?”

“Can I —” Cas’ breathing gets a little ragged and he nods quickly, palming himself. Normally he'd be too scared to try something like that, but with Dean… even if someone caught them, they'd never have the balls to say anything about it. “Holy shit, yes. Do you have lube?”

“I’ll bring some.” He nods for Cas to follow him and leads him to his master bedroom, stripping off his sweatpants and pulling up some dark-wash jeans. “You have a public kink at all before this or did I ruin you?”

He's still a little dizzy from the sight of Dean getting changed, but he does his best to answer. “Um… I'm not sure it counts since I’ve never seriously considered doing anything about it, but either way, I think you've ruined me.” _For everything and everyone else._

“Awesome.” He pulls on a gray t-shirt and a leather jacket, then his boots before finishing his outfit with his obnoxious sunglasses. “Gotta do my hair.” He disappears into an oversized bathroom and Cas struggles to breathe. 

_How? How is any human that fucking flawless, and why on Earth is he letting_ **_me_ ** _fuck him?_ He has a moment where he thinks he's about to panic, but then Dean comes back out and grabs his keys.

“You get to meet Baby.” His smile is a mixture of love and pride, making Cas want to kiss his infuriating mouth again.

“Do I want to know?” he asks skeptically, but follows Dean out to the garage. When he sees the sleek black car, his grin nearly matches Dean’s. “Oh. This is Baby?”

“Mmhm. Beautiful, ain’t she?” Dean runs his hand along her hood and climbs inside, using a remote to open the garage. “She requires a lot of maintenance, but... it’s worth it.”

Cas can't stop the comparison in his mind to Dean. He requires a lot of maintenance… but is he worth it? 

He contemplates the answer to that question the whole ride to the store, but it's hard to concentrate on anything other than Dean relaxed and singing along to the radio. As if he wasn't already handsome enough, his voice is gorgeous to boot. _How is he real? How?_

He learns early on in that store how easily distracted Dean gets. When they first walk in, he giggles at a giant stuffed bulldog and goes off on a tangent about how he’s always wanted one but his family wouldn’t let him. Then, he finds some chips he thinks look good and opens them right there to taste them. Of course, he hates them, but they still have to buy them and it doesn't stop him from opening up some cookies a few moments later. 

It doesn't occur to Cas until they have an entire cart full of things that he's going to have to leave it somewhere if he wants to hold up his end of the deal — and now the logistics are making him wonder. Dean’s busy playing with some flamingo that says ‘I love you’ if you squeeze its belly. The Valentine’s Day section has kept Dean occupied for over ten minutes, but now, Cas needs that gorgeous ass. “How do we…?”

“How do we...” His eyes widen when he realizes what Cas means and he tosses the flamingo over his shoulder, knocking down multiple boxes of chocolates in the process. “Oops... Anyway, we pay, then come back inside after we get all that in the trunk. C’mon.”

It sounds like a better plan than any Cas could've come up with, so he follows without a complaint and loads the groceries into the trunk of the Impala as his cock hardens in anticipation. “Lead the way.”

Dean takes his hand and tugs him along, not letting go while they enter the store and make their way through the aisles. After a moment, they slide into the back storage area. Dean’s eyes are glued to the upper corners, but he eventually finds a place out of a camera’s view behind a giant palette of Fruit Loops. After he tugs Cas into the small place, he giggles and thumbs at it. “Ha... fitting. Lay it on me, fruit loop.”

“You're making me want to fight you instead of fuck you,” Cas says quietly. “Turn around and show me your ass before I change my mind.”

Dean bites his lip and turns as he unbuttons his pants, slowly exposing that gorgeous ass that already haunts Cas’ dreams.

 _Yeah, that'll do it._ “Do you still want me to skip prep?” He steps in, bending down to nip at his cheek. Once he's there, he doesn't really spare much thought to getting caught or how Dean might answer that question — he needs a taste. He buries his tongue in that perfect ass and grips those cheeks hard to keep them spread. 

"Ah, fuck!" Dean groans, bracing his hands on the cement wall and pushing back. "Nah, no prep, just that sassy ass tongue." 

It's all he needs to hear. Cas reaches down to pull himself free and jacks off as he opens Dean up with a greedy tongue, only standing back up when he's throbbing in his own hand. “Fuck,” he whispers harshly. “Spread your legs. Now.”

"You got it, bossy." Dean spreads his legs and also his cheeks with his palms, showing Cas that sinful hole he's about to wreck.

Not surprisingly, Cas lubes up and sinks in with a mix of awe and irritation. “Stop talking, you're going to ruin it for me.” He rolls his hips to sink deeper and rests his head on the back of Dean’s shoulder, glad Dean can't see just how much Cas loves this. 

Dean moans like they aren't in a public place, reaching down to stroke himself. "Can I come, Cas? Or do I gotta wait until we get home?" he asks, rolling his hips for more.

“You already know the answer to that.” Cas lets him touch himself for a moment as he slides in and out, but then moves Dean's hands and pins them behind his back. “I'm going to fill you up here and you can come for me after lunch.”

"Fuck... I'm so fucking hooked on you, Cas." Dean's body shivers, his forehead dropping forward against the wall as he plants his feet.

The words seem disjointed from reality but Cas eats them up, fucking into Dean faster until he's nearing the edge. “Tell me you want it,” he gasps out. 

"I want it, baby. Fuckin' need it. Fill me up and pull my hair... please." His gorgeous skin trembles under Cas' fingers and Cas can't hold back — he grabs a fistful of Dean’s hair and yanks his head back, his teeth threatening to close on his neck as he empties into that tight, hot ass. 

“Fuck…” He slows, drawing back and easing in until he's completely empty, then reaches around to stroke Dean twice. “Soon. You did so good, Dean.”

He growls and lightly pounds his fists on the wall, then stands up straight. "Did I? Fuck... I'm dyin' right now." Dean huffs a laugh and buttons his pants with shaky hands.

Cas nearly takes pity on him, but he knows he'll be getting off soon enough. “Come on then,” he says quietly. “The sooner you eat again, the sooner you can come.”

Dean just nods, his annoying mouth finally quiet as they walk back through the store. He can still see the bulge in Dean’s jeans, and he feels pride in the fact that he’s finally rendered him speechless.

_Now, if only it would stay that way…_


	4. Chapter 4

Over the next couple of days, Dean travels a lot. It leaves Cas to roam the halls of the house and talk to the other employees. To his surprise, he finds out that Missouri isn't really an employee at all — she's basically Dean’s second mom and lives here with him, helping to take care of him since Mary’s no longer around to do it. 

“How do you deal with his attitude?” he asks curiously. “Other than smacking him, I mean.”

“Smacking him does help.” She laughs at herself and takes a seat. “I’ve known Dean since he was four years old. Sometimes I look at him and I still see that wide-eyed boy. He used to cry at movies, you know? That also helps me stick around. Knowing he’s still that little boy, just... a much bigger personality. How did you two meet?”

A faint blush spreads across his cheeks. “We fist fought in the alley behind my previous job. He kept changing his order, and then I apparently called him a hillbilly.”

“A hillbilly?” Missouri laughs and squeezes his forearm. “I take it he didn’t like that one.” She shakes her head and eyes him. “And yet, he offered you a job. That boy... He’s impossible to keep up with. He fired his last cook after he called him an asshole, and hired a new one that called him a hillbilly.”

“To be fair, that's not exactly what I said. He was complaining about the eggs I made him and I asked him how he would feel if I walked into one of his stores and said they weren't hillbillying correctly. He took that personally, I suppose.” Cas purses his lips in a small smile, knowing damn well that the only difference between him and the previous chef is that Cas actually fucked Dean. 

“He’ll keep you on your toes, but he’s a good boy. The best one in this godforsaken family. His father and Sam are two peas in a pod. They were made for this life. Dean? He wasn’t. That boy would rather hang out and watch  _ Lord of the Rings _ than follow his dad around. He isn’t allowed to speak at those interviews and business meetings, you know? He just has to stand there and look pretty, and if he doesn’t... Well, you saw his face.”

Cas scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed that he'd been smiling at all. “Why doesn't he just walk away, then? Leave all of this behind?”

“He likes having money. If he walked away, they’d cut him off. But I think he’ll get there. He has enough drive to figure it all out.” She eyes Cas knowingly. “I think you’re good for him.”

_ If he walks away now, I'll be out of a job again. _ He turns his gaze toward the floor and then sighs quietly. "Honestly, Miss Missouri, I think I'm a little in over my head here. He frustrates the life out of me."

“Welcome to the club.” She laughs, and for some reason, her high-pitched voice is soothing. Cas gets why Dean looks at her like a mother.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out to see a text from Dean that makes him blush — he shoots back a snarky response and clears his throat. “So, what's he really like, then? Outside of the spotlight.”

“He’s... boring.” She smiles fondly and continues, “He likes to go out to some dock and stare at the sky for hours, but no one knows where he goes. He likes to fish and then puts them back in the wild because he hates the way fish taste. He’s the biggest movie nerd, and he’s... cuddly. Have you been in his room? He sleeps with a stuffed bulldog.” Her smile fades. “He hides his true self. His heart is cloaked with shame... I don’t know why. I don’t know if  _ he  _ knows why, but I have faith he’ll get there. We all just need to have patience with him... and slap him sometimes.”

It's hard for Cas to reconcile the Dean he knows and the Dean she’s describing, but his chest tightens thinking of anyone living in shame. “Do John and Sam know Dean’s gay?”  _ I don't want to accidentally out him. Though… I might've actually just done exactly that. Shit.  _

Missouri smiles at him and pats his knee. “They know. Doesn’t change the shame. That was why I chose to move here with him. They kicked him out and he bought this place all alone. I couldn’t have that.”

He frowns, feeling conflicted. On one hand, he wants to comfort Dean, to show him that he has nothing to be ashamed of and he deserves love just like everyone else — and on the other hand, he can't stop seeing that smug expression in his mind.  _ He makes it hard to get close, and I don't know if I've got it in me. It's not my job.  _ “Thank you, Miss Missouri. You've been very helpful.” Cas stands up and moves to the sink to clean his own dishes. If she’s not a true employee, she doesn't need to be cleaning up after him, too. 

An hour or so later, he finally checks his phone again, and he opens Dean’s text thread to find a photo of his bulge in his slacks, along with the message:  _ He misses you. _

**Cas:** _ You've been gone so much I'm surprised he remembers me at all. What's wrong, no one around you to fight with? _

He chuckles at his screen as he hits send, but takes another look at that bulge and tries to ignore the way his own cock responds. He misses Dean too, at least in this one, singular respect.

**Dean:** _ There is. But I want you. _

**Dean:** _ Fine, I’ll just jack off. _

He sends another photo to show he’s sitting in a room with other people with his cock exposed under the table. It's easily the hottest thing Cas has ever seen, and his breathing is ragged almost instantly. 

**Cas:** _ Stroke. Slowly. Tease yourself… don't come. Send me a video.  _

It's sent before he can think twice. He needs this, needs the mental picture of Dean jacking off surrounded by people that have no idea — and he wants it to be to  _ him. _ He hurries to pull himself out and snaps a hasty pic showing Dean exactly how hard he is already, just from those couple of messages. 

When he does as told, Cas can tell he’s leaking and throbbing... all for  _ him. _

**Dean:** _ Fuckin dyin, Cas… _

A low growl escapes him and he clenches his fist, knowing that he could jack off happily to that — but he wants more. So much more. 

**Cas:** _ Address. Now.  _

He tucks himself away and grabs his keys, his blood pulsing hard as he dashes out to his car, completely ignoring a cute little redhead that waves to him as he passes.

Dean sends the address and Cas puts it in his phone without another word, driving over much faster than he should.

Cas isn’t surprised the address is just another rich person’s house, and he doesn’t see Dean’s car, but when he texts that he’s arrived, Dean is rushing out a few moments later, his hand blocking his crotch.

He unlocks the doors and climbs into the backseat, pushing his pants down and gripping his cock with shallow breaths as Dean gets in. It's hard as hell to maneuver into the right position, and by the time Cas has Dean straddling him with his cock out, he's frustrated enough that his movements are rough as he pulls them together. "You've been gone for days."

“I know... fuck.” Dean grins and rolls his hips. “Miss your... cooking.” He huffs and leans in to kiss him, showing he missed much more than that.

The slickness surprises him until he realizes how wet they both are, and he instantly regrets forgetting the lube. “You… Are you coming home tonight?”

“Yeah... You want me to?” Dean asks with a smirk.

Waiting until the following morning to sink inside him sounds like a nightmare, but he doesn't have much choice. “As long as you're home for breakfast—” he twists his hand and locks eyes with Dean — “because you're not allowed to come until I'm buried inside of you.”

“Goddamnit... alright, alright. I can do that... Fuck, you feel good, Cas.”

The obedience has him too close too soon, but Cas pulls Dean into another heated kiss before finally letting go of them both. "Okay. Okay... Tomorrow morning." He kisses him again, sliding his tongue in Dean's mouth as his cock throbs pathetically — but fair is fair.

“You’re gonna— nah... Let me suck you off, baby.” Dean bites his lip and rolls his hips.

Cas nearly gives in just to feel his mouth, but he shakes his head. "You need to go finish... whatever it is you're doing here, and I need to go get my things and head home. But get up early tomorrow. I want you before breakfast."

Dean looks pained as he nods, but he puts his pants back on and tucks himself away. “I don’t want to go back in there. Shit is boring.”

“So tell them there's been an incident that requires your attention and leave,” Cas says simply. He gets a little vision of them sitting in Dean’s home theater, watching movies and getting handsy — and it's so intense that he honestly doesn't hear Dean’s response. “Um… sorry, what did you say?”

“Yeah... I can do that...”

Cas kisses him one more time. “Then there you go, you don't have to be bored anymore.”

“Would be funner if my dick was in your throat.” Dean bites back a laugh and ruffles Cas’ hair.

He sighs, swatting Dean's hand away — but at least some of the edge has been taken off. "Go away. I'll see you at breakfast."

“Alright, fine. See you tomorrow, asshat.” Dean kisses his cheek and gets out of the car, walking back up the long driveway.

_ Shit.  _ He watches Dean for a little too long then gets back in the driver's seat and convinces himself to go home, without stopping back at Dean’s for his things. He has his phone, and the rest can wait until morning. 

~~~~

The second he walks into Dean’s house the following morning, he waves Jask off. “Tell me where his room is. I'm taking him a different kind of breakfast in bed.”

“Did you forget already?” Jask huffs and leads the way to the master bedroom, opening the door for him. Dean’s sleeping, the blankets bunched at his feet and his legs spread apart. All he’s wearing is boxers and he’s so beautiful that even Jask takes a moment to admire him.

"Get out," Cas snaps a little harsher than necessary. He pushes the giant brute out the door and shuts it hard, then shivers as he turns to face Dean again. He crosses the room to the bed and clears his throat. "Wake up."

Dean wakes with a flinch, his face relaxing when he sees who it is. “Mmm, mornin’, Cas.”

“Tell me I can touch you.” He climbs up on the bed and fishes the bottle of lube from his pocket before ditching his clothes. 

“Touch me... Course you can touch me. Anywhere you want... please.” He squirms around on the bed, his arms reaching out to Cas lazily. 

Cas kisses Dean’s hand and then slides down those boxers, leaning in to kiss and nip at the skin. “You can nap after this, but I need you to come for me first. Need to be inside you. I couldn't wait.” He slicks his fingers as he speaks and slides one in, his own eyes closing at the squeeze. 

“Fuck...” Dean moans, spreading his legs for Cas and reaching down to stroke his already fully hard cock. “I like you, Cas. You’re friggin awesome.”

It sends butterflies through his stomach as he pulls his finger out, then coats length. "Did you come at all last night?"

“No. Didn’t even edge again... Been hard for you all night. Lemme have it, gorgeous. Split me open.”

The sound Cas lets out is embarrassing, but he doesn't care. He spreads the lube over Dean’s hole and pushes in slowly, little by little until he loses his patience and slams in the last couple of inches. It makes him shudder, dropping down to kiss Dean breathless as he rolls just a little deeper.

Dean’s legs wrap around him and his hands slide up his back and scratch their way down. He moans into Cas’ mouth, rocking his ass down on him for more. Jask opens the door a moment later and Cas glares, then throws a pillow at him which he blocks by slamming the door again. Cas keeps going, kissing over Dean’s jaw to his neck, grinding their bodies together until he's near desperate for him. 

“Fuck… I’ve never edged like that before,” he gasps out, fucking into him harder and scratching down his side to lift Dean’s ass. 

“No?” Dean huffs a breathless laugh. “I love edging. You can edge me for days, baby. Make me fucking beg for you.” 

The words have Cas stopping, draped completely over Dean and breathing raggedly. The thought of bratty, asshole, perfect Dean Winchester begging for  _ him  _ is too much — and too good to pass up. He slides out with a groan and rolls Dean onto his side, lifting his leg and sliding back in. “Fine. Don't come. Your ass is mine… Fuck.” 

It doesn't take long after that. Cas grunts a moan and slams in, filling Dean up as he strokes him and whispers praises he never imagined he'd say to Dean Winchester of all people, but he means every damn word. He squeezes Dean's cock as he stills, then stays buried inside him and lets him go. "You okay?"

“No.” Dean’s body trembles, his shaky hand gripping his cock and his eyes closed tightly. “Just... need a sec... touch me... please.”

Something tells Cas that Dean doesn't mean sexually. He slides out and lays behind Dean, kissing the back of his shoulder and sliding an arm around him. “Dean… You've been incredible. So good.” He kisses again, rubbing a gentle circle over his chest. “So, so good.”

Dean hums, his body slowly relaxing for Cas, and soon he’s not trembling anymore. When his breathing is even, he sighs, reaching up to touch his hand. “Thank you... Sir.”

_ Sir? _ He knows what it means, but he never really imagined himself as one before. Yet, the respect in that word has Cas wanting to hear it more often… but only from Dean. “Are you alright now?”

“Mmhm...” It sounds as if he’s falling asleep, but before Cas can move to check on him, he’s opening his annoying mouth again. “Now feed me.”

Cas clenches his jaw for a moment, but speaks evenly. "What would you like?"  _ If you say any kind of eggs whatsoever, I'm going to throw you off this bed. _

“French toast... sausage...” He pauses a few extra seconds before he adds, “eggs.”

“No.” Cas sits up, fumbling for his pants. “You'll get French toast and sausage. If you want eggs… come make them yourself.” He smiles almost fondly despite the very real annoyance, then stands up and dresses again. “I'll be back… brat.” He flashes Dean a raised eyebrow and then disappears to the kitchen, shaking his head as he walks.  _ Still the same.  _

~~~~

On Friday, Cas spends hours preparing a multi-course meal at Dean’s request. It's apparently his turn to host some sort of a meeting and he wants Cas to feed them all — all eight of them, and he's not sure if any of them will be bringing guests or not.  _ So I'm cooking for anywhere between 8-16 people depending on how many guests come. Wait, is Dean bringing a guest?  _ His insides squirm at the thought and he whirls around like Dean’s actually going to be there to ask him, but he's not. 

Cas mumbles under his breath as he finishes up, then heads for the dining room to see if anyone’s arrived yet or if he should warm the food. 

When he enters, they’re all sitting around the long table, laughing loudly. It’s obvious Dean is drunk already, as is Sam, and they’re arguing about the fact that Dean doesn’t pull his own weight. 

They stop when they notice him, and Dean sits up a little straighter. “Cas... Gonna let us all starve to death?”

“I wasn't informed anyone had even arrived, Mr. Winchester.” Cas’ movements are stiff as he nods to the others, then pivots to go get the first round of food, doing a quick headcount on the way out. There are thirteen people to feed and only one Cas — he has no help, so it takes him several trips to get the whole first course out. By the time he sets the last plate down, he's already sweating and a guy three seats down is asking for a refill on his drink. 

_ I'm the chef, not the waiter. Fuck this.  _ “Of course.” He grabs the empty glass and heads back to the kitchen, and when he returns, Dean is already halfway done with his food but he waves Cas over and hands him his glass. “Scotch. Just right there.” He points at the liquor table and does the most irritating close-lipped smile, then goes back to eating.

“I'm not your waiter,” he reminds him quietly, but Dean acts like he can't hear him. Sam stares at him expectantly and Cas is close to saying something that might get him in trouble — but instead, he pours Dean a glass and returns it to the table. “Anything else?”

“Nah. Thanks.” He takes a sip and polishes off his plate. “That was good, Cas.” 

“Did you even taste it?” Sam asks, looking at him like he’s a bug or some kind of rodent. 

“Course I— shut-up, bitch.” 

“Boys!” John barks, going back to his meal.

It's enough that Cas slips back into the kitchen, only returning when it's time to bring out the second course. It's more of the same, pointless arguments and egos too big for the room they're in. 

But as the time goes on, everyone in the room becomes drunker and the air becomes much thicker. Even Jask slips out of the room to breathe in the kitchen, shaking his head as Cas enters. “They’re a lot, huh?”

“You could say that. I don't like  _ this  _ Dean.” Cas peels a potato he no longer needs just to keep his hands busy. “I don't really care for any of them.”

“Yeah... I get it. He’s been different lately, but now that he’s in there, surrounded by those assholes, it’s like he forgets who he is. Put his ass in check, you get away with more than me.”

"It's already late. Honestly, I just want to get through this and go home." He picks up and balances four plates and takes them out, then carefully brings the rest out in shifts.

Dean blatantly checks out his ass, obviously not caring that his father is sitting right there and when his dad narrows his eyes, he cackles. “What? I get my money’s worth.”

The blood in Cas’  _ everything  _ runs cold as John scoffs. He sets the last plate down a little roughly and turns on this heels, heading out the opposite door into the hallway. As he takes a couple of deep breaths, he pulls out his phone and texts Dean:  _ Get out here. Now.  _

It takes Dean a few moments, but eventually, he makes his way into the hallway and looks around. “Oh, there you are.” He walks over with an idiotic grin. “Miss me, too?”

“No.” He shoves Dean against the wall and clamps one hand over his mouth. “How many days have you been edging for me now? Four? Five? Add one more.” Cas snaps open Dean’s jeans and slides his free hand in, rubbing over his length. “Nod if you understand. I don't want to hear a word out of your mouth unless you need me to stop.”

Dean nods, his cock twitching and hardening under Cas’ hand in seconds. He moans and grips Cas’ sides, his hips canting forward desperately.

“You want your  _ money's worth,  _ Dean? You're going to get it.” He jerks him roughly, keeping him pinned to the wall. “How close are you, Dean? Are you aching? Desperate to come, to cover your  _ chef  _ and send me back in there a mess?” 

He’s nodding hungrily, the look in his watering eyes is so desperate Cas nearly takes pity on him but he can’t, and Dean knows he deserves this. He moans, his hands shoving Cas’ hand away before he can come, and he squeezes the base so hard the head looks purple.

"Go back in. The dessert is in the oven, serve it yourself." Cas rubs his own crotch and then reaches up to brush Dean's cheek. "You did well here, Dean... but I absolutely want to slam your head against the table." It's a gross exaggeration and it's clear in his voice, but Dean still looks like he’s struggling. 

“Okay, Cas.” He takes a shaky breath and moves to walk toward the dining room awkwardly, the boner making it difficult. “Have a good night.”

“Dean.” He moves, stopping him right before he gets back to the door. “Look at me.” 

He meets his eyes, but only for a few seconds before they drop down. “I know I don’t deserve it tonight, I’ll be alright. I’ll be good.”

"I was stopping you to tell you that you do. I won't be back until Monday, and I don't want you to go that long. I would've let you come if you hadn't stopped me." He leans in, placing a gentle kiss to his jaw. "Come for me tonight and send me a video, alright?"

“You sure?” Dean closes his eyes, leaning into the kiss. “Will you get off to the video?”

Cas nods. “I'll send you one back, if you want.” 

“Okay.” He kisses the side of Cas’ mouth and then again on his lips. “See you Monday, then.”

Leaving Dean alone here doesn't sound like a good idea, but his words are echoing in his mind.  _ Money’s worth. That's right. He pays me for food and orgasms. I did my job.  _ “Goodnight.”

He watches as Dean leaves, then slowly makes his way back to the kitchen to get his things for the weekend. Jask isn't there, so Cas doesn't linger longer than necessary. He heads home with his thoughts muddled and his cock as confused as he is, and that doesn't resolve itself until Dean finally sends that video hours later. 

The video is shorter than Cas wanted, but when it starts Dean is already hard and leaking down his shaft. He wraps a hand around himself and strokes, instantly whimpering and rutting up into it, his cock desperate for release. “Cas... fuck... You said I was good... fuck... I wanna be good. Wanna be good for you... I can’t — Fuck... m’comin’!” His grunt is deep and long, come spurting out at least ten times and Dean  _ ah’s _ loudly with every single one.

His come-covered hand shakes as he releases his still-hard cock and he takes shallow breaths as he comes down, the video ending abruptly. Cas instantly scrambles to pull himself out and start the video over, watching on repeat until he's right there on the edge. He groans as he closes the video to open his camera, barely getting to the correct setting in time to record his come shot. He squeezes his bent legs together to catch it all and runs a finger through the mess. “See what you do to me, Dean? This was for you.” 

He cuts off the video and sends it out, then cleans himself up as best as he can without moving off the bed. In that moment, he wishes they weren't far away from each other, especially now that Missouri's spilled the beans about Dean enjoying cuddling. 

Maybe one day he’ll experience that firsthand. In the meantime, Cas guesses he'll just have to continue earning his keep. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Dean**

The weekend goes by so slowly that by Sunday night, Dean is restless. He hasn’t slept this shitty in a long time, and the amount of times he wakes up hard and rutting into his mattress is embarrassing. He hasn’t come since he sent that video, because Cas didn’t tell him he could. 

He sleeps a couple hours in the late morning, but by 6am, he’s giving up. He washes up in the bathroom and heads straight to his theater room for a well-deserved marathon, and decides on the way there that that’s _all_ he’s doing today, and he wants Cas to just hang with him. He could give him the day off and hang with Jask, but if he’s being honest... he misses the guy. He can’t help it.

Cas is everything he’s always dreamed of, not that he’d admit that out loud. He didn’t even realize he had a kink for being bossed around until Cas, but now, he can’t get enough. He remembers Cas talking about Doms and pulls his phone out to Google it, but in the process he runs smack into Missouri. “Ah, shit!” 

“Language,” she scolds, looking at his eyes. “How much did you sleep?”

“You know me, I got my four hours.” He smiles as encouragingly as he can, but she doesn’t fall for it. 

“Movie day?” 

“Yeah... Actually, I think I’m just gonna binge _Game of Thrones._ Think Cas likes it?” He rolls his eyes at her smile and starts walking again. “Don’t be weird about it. He’s gonna be here soon so... I was gonna ask if he wanted to hang out.” 

“I’m not being weird. I’m happy for you. You ever think about making it official?” She follows him, making him hide another eye roll.

“Official? What is there to make official? I pay him to be my chef. It’s already official. Paperwork and all.” Dean’s tone must annoy Missouri, because she slaps his head and turns to walk away. 

“I’ll send him in when he arrives.” 

Dean yells out a “thank you” and enters the theater, sitting in the best seat and setting up the show while he waits for Cas. The best seat happens to be a loveseat, and he smiles at the fact that he might actually get to sit with someone on it for once... maybe even get handsy...

Once the show is queued, Dean goes back to his cell phone, this time ordering them food before returning to his Dom search. 

The internet gives him information overload, and he isn’t sure how to feel. _Am I a... sub? Why am I a sub? I can be a boss…_ Even as he thinks that, he knows it’s a lie, but he doesn’t have time to dwell because Cas walks in looking gorgeous as hell in a blue t-shirt. “Hi,” Dean says lamely, glad it’s dark enough in there that his blush is hidden.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas looks around and comes a little closer. “This is probably my favorite room and I've only been in here for six seconds,” he says quietly. “Do you want your breakfast in here?”

“Breakfast is on the way. I ordered in.” Dean taps the seat for Cas to join him. “You like _Game of Thrones?”_

Cas looks confused for a moment but sits down, tugging at his pants by his knees. “I never actually made it past the first season. I should've known Sean Bean would die, but it still hurt. Gave me flashbacks of Boromir.”

“Right? I can’t believe I thought he’d survive for even a second. I was convinced he was the main character and he’d actually stick around.” Dean rolls his eyes and presses play, reclining their love seat with a small smirk. “This is what we’re doin’ today. Ordering in all the meals and watching this. I’ll still pay you.” He doesn’t even think about how that sounds like he’s paying Cas for his company, he honestly doesn’t care. He has enough money that it makes no difference to him, but he also doesn’t expect Cas to do anything for free. This is his livelihood, and Dean’s already fucked up one of his jobs.

Again, Cas looks confused. “Dean, I don't want you to pay me for this. You pay me enough on a regular basis that I can afford an unpaid day off or twelve.” 

“So... you’d spend one of your days off with me?” It’s Dean’s turn to look confused. He pays everyone for their time, even Jask.

"I'm saying exactly that," he says a little awkwardly. "I can think of much worse ways to spend a day off, but...Aam I still allowed to touch you, or is it a work-only kind of thing?"

“Fuck that. Touch me... anytime, anywhere, Cas.” Dean smiles and reaches over to touch his nose with his finger. “Boop. Touched you.”

An adorable bitchface answers him as Cas shakes his head. “That's not the kind of touching I meant.” He slides his hand between Dean’s thighs and leaves it there, turning his attention to the screen. 

Dean smiles down at his hand and spreads his legs more, wanting more of Cas’ hands on him. “I was a good boy this weekend… No coming without you.”

The small shift in Cas’ position tells Dean that has an effect on him. “You didn't?” He looks over, gliding his hand up. “Did you edge, or just refrain altogether?”

“Uh, nah... Nothin’.” Dean squirms a little and faces him. “Had sex dreams about you all night and humped my mattress, but that’s all. No money shot in my dream, either.”

"Hmm." Cas drops to his knees and scoots in front of Dean, palming him as he holds eye contact. "Then I think that deserves a reward, don't you?"

“Mmhmm... yeah... I do.” His hips cant off the chair in anticipation, but he bites his lip and calms himself, wanting to make Cas proud.

Cas nods and draws Dean’s cock out of his pants. “Keep watching. You can come for me whenever you're ready, you don't have to hold back this time.” He leans in and sucks the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue and methodically taking him deeper a little at a time.

Dean moans, his hand slotting through Cas’ hair but not pulling yet, just enjoying his gorgeous mouth. “Fuck... So good. Can I cockwarm after? Please, Sir.” He blushes at how easily the nickname slips from his lips, but it feels so right, he doesn’t care.

He can see Cas’ body nearly convulsing for a moment, but he locks eyes with Dean and nods, his pupils blown. He pulls his cock out a moment later and moans around Dean’s length, sucking a little more intensely. 

It doesn’t take much longer for Dean to start thrusting into his mouth and tugging his hair. “I— Cas... Cas, baby... M’close. Gonna— come...”

Two fingers press up behind his balls as his cock disappears completely into that tight throat, and Dean loses the battle. He comes with a growl, emptying into Cas and humping his face through the aftershocks.

When Cas pulls off for air, he licks his lips, sitting back so Dean can actually see his hard, leaking cock. “I think I need you to come in my mouth more often.”

“No problem. Fucking love that mouth.” Dean leans in and kisses him deeply, tasting himself on Cas’ tongue and then slowly kissing and nipping his way down Cas’ neck while he joins Cas on his knees. “Can I have it?” He nods at the loveseat for Cas to sit and palms him. “Lemme keep you warm for a while.”

A shiver runs through Cas as he bites his lip and gets back up in the seat, but the second that Dean tries to come anywhere near him, that fat cock slaps his lips. “Say please.”

It makes him moan, his hands drop to his lap and his eyes slam shut. “P—please... please, Sir.”

"Fuck," Cas whispers. "Good boy. Go ahead." He angles his cock forward and slides down a little, ignoring the show entirely. "You're gorgeous, Dean. The most beautiful human I've ever seen."

It tickles his ego in the best of ways, and now all he wants to do is please Cas and earn more praise. “I wanna be good for you.” He whispers, sliding his tongue up Cas’ cock and then settling with him in his throat. 

It takes a moment, but his body begins to slowly relax. After he keeps his vision locked on Cas, all he sees are those gorgeous blue eyes, and it’s all he cares to ever see again. Suddenly, he starts to feel like he’s floating. 

“Good, so good…” Cas’ hand fists in his hair but doesn't move him, just holds on like he's trying to keep himself steady. He pushes deeper. “Does that feel good, Dean? Having my cock buried in your throat?” 

“Mmhm,” Dean tries to mumble out for him, his eyes fluttering slightly. He loves this... more than he ever imagined he would. He’s never done something like this before, but he’s seen it in porn and always wanted to know how it felt to have his jaw stretched around someone’s cock for a length of time. He knows the fact that this is Cas makes it feel better than it would have with anyone else, so he’s secretly glad he waited to try it. He knows he can trust Cas. 

A soft hand cards through Dean’s hair, rubbing slowly. “You’re so different from how I thought you'd be, Dean. So good… you just need a little direction, hm? Suck. Slowly.”

Dean nods like the good boy he is, his eyes staring at him as he sucks as slow as he can. Cas moans Dean’s name and tries to turn his focus back to the screen, but he's squirming within a few minutes and rocking up. 

“Right there, stay right there. Don't move.” Cas growls, pulling nearly all the way out before shoving back in, fucking Dean’s face until he's right on the edge. “F-finish it, make me come.”

Dean’s already hard again in his lap but he makes no move to touch himself. He’s perfectly content pleasing Cas and he sits up a little more to take him deeper and suck him like he’s dying for his come. He’s moaning and slurping and a fucking mess, but all he cares about is Cas. _C’mon, baby. Lemme have it._

“Oh, Dean…” Cas gasps as he comes, flooding Dean’s mouth and throat with hot, delicious come. He holds his head in place until he's empty and then pushes him off, going a little boneless against the couch. “Incredible.”

Dean stays on his knees, staring up with swollen lips and messy hair, his eyes dancing. “Incredible?” he asks, hoping he doesn’t sound too desperate for praise, but he can’t help it. It feels too good.

“Yes, Dean. You're incredible.” His eyes flick down to Dean’s crotch. “Do you want to come for me again?”

Dean shakes his head no. “No... Make me wait.” He climbs up on the seat with Cas, a sleepy, dopey grin on his face. “Where the hell is our food?” He jumps up and opens the door but he sees the bag of food in the hallway and grabs it. “Guess it’s here.”

“Maybe Jask learned his lesson about interrupting us,” Cas says with a chuckle. He helps pull the food out and they eat quickly, sitting close to each other. When the food is all gone, Cas licks his lips and starts to clean up. “Thank you for that.”

“Thank _you_ for... everything. Most people hit the hills by now y’know?” Dean licks his lips and rubs along his thigh.

Cas eyes him curiously. “Why? Did you treat them the way you treat me?”

“How do I treat you?” he asks curiously. “Am I good to you?”

"There are times when I still want to punch you," he admits. "Like the last business meeting. But... there are other sides to you, like this one." He gestures to the room they're in. "That version, I like very much."

Dean smiles at that and thinks about this version of himself. “Yeah... This is my favorite place to be. It’s like my own bubble and none of that negative shit matters.”

"Come here." He tugs Dean back up to the loveseat and sits close, reaching over to thread their fingers together. "Is this okay?"

“Yeah.” Dean can’t hide the smile on his lips. “I like your hands.” He squeezes and leans in to kiss his jaw before returning his attention to the show.

He loses track of the episodes they watch like that, and it feels so natural that Dean doesn't have a clue what to make of it. Even during lunch, their knees touch as they eat, and they're holding hands again when Jask comes in. 

“Hey, boss. You said no meetings or calls at all today, right? Not even from the store managers?”

“Nah. None. Who is it?” Dean huffs when he says it’s just Ashton and shakes his head. “Hell no. It’s relaxing day, don’t want to hear that bitch’s mouth.”

Jask chuckles and nods. “Got it, you know how much I love telling him to fuck off. Have fun.” He winks and leaves, and Cas glances over to Dean. 

“If you don't like him, why is he a manager?”

“He’s Sammy’s best friend. He’s a real douche. You’ll probably meet him eventually.” Dean lays his head back against the seat and smiles at Cas. “Tell me more about you.”

Cas licks his lips slowly. “There's not much to tell. I've loved to cook ever since I was a little kid, I love my family but don't see them often… I’m boring.”

“Me too. We can just... be boring together.” Dean shrugs and tosses a leg over Cas’ lap.

They settle back to keep watching, Cas’ hand sliding gently up and down Dean’s thigh. 

And Dean realizes just how much he’s always wanted this. Someone to just... _be_ with. He didn’t think that was possible for him, so he never gave it much thought before this. But he’s also aware that this makes him vulnerable. The thought of Cas ever walking out has something tightening in his chest and he pulls away his hand, not wanting to get too invested. He can’t. They _always_ get sick of him. 

~~~~

It’s been awhile since Dean’s gone for a drive, but he’s well overdue. The purr of Baby’s engine calms him nearly as much as a good spanking, and he bites his lip as he speeds down an open road. He knows speeding around here is a privilege that only money can buy, but when you grease a few palms now and again, he thinks it’s well deserved.

His family may not have always had money, but he’s been surrounded by it as long as he can remember and his parents raised him to carry himself a certain way. “Be a man,” his father, John, would always say. And part of being a man was standing tall, never backing down, and always acting like you were a gift from God. Because, that’s what the Winchesters are. A friggin gift. 

It wasn't until Cas punched him in the face that he ever even considered otherwise, and it wasn’t even about the punch. Dean’s been punched plenty of times in his life. No, it was the look in his eyes. Those gorgeous blue eyes made him think of how much hotter blue flame is, and if Cas had the ability to use those flames, Dean would be extra crispy. There was more than anger there, though. It was a blend of that mixed with disappointment and pity, and Dean never wants to see that look in Cas’ eyes again. Yeah, he still fucks with him and pushes all his buttons, but that’s just who Dean is. He’s annoying, he’s been called that enough in his life to know it’s true. It’s probably why Jask is the only bodyguard to stick around longer than a year — he’s just like Dean. 

Yet, even Jask has told Dean to cool it a few times, especially when it comes to Cas. Whatever Dean sees in him, Jask sees too — minus the sex appeal. Cas is special. He’s someone you work to be better for, someone who deserves all the good things in the world, even if he’s the sassiest person Dean’s ever met. But maybe that’s part of it. The sass was what Dean liked about him that day they met, and he’s only grown to like it more. 

But liking Cas this much is risky. He can wise up at any moment and tell Dean to fuck off, and then what would he do? Sit at home with a tub of Ben & Jerrys and watch dateline documentaries? Nah, that’s not the Winchester way. He’s the gift here… right? 

Without realizing where he’s going, he sees a sign that he’s nearing the docks and smiles. This is probably his favorite place in the world, and he’s been to a few places that a lot of people would say are a million times better, but he doesn’t care. There’s just something about this gem being right in his backyard — so to speak, anyway. It looks as empty as usual, and he passes the main docks and heads to the furthest one from the main road, parking Baby under the oak tree and shutting her off. It takes a few moments of walking to find the dock, and he smiles to himself as he exits the shade from the trees, the sun beaming down on his face. There’s no one around for miles, and Dean lays back on that dock and stares at the sky, trying not to think about Cas. 

He already consumes most of his thoughts when he’s doing his normal daily routine, but out here, Dean tries to clear his mind and get some perspective. But after twenty minutes of failing to do so, he pulls out his phone and dials a friend. Maybe Cole can help him think more clearly about Cas and see this for what it is. Good sex and good food, nothing more. 

It rings so many times Dean is pulling it away from his ear to hang up when he hears Cole’s voice finally answer the phone. “Hello? What took you so long, bitch? I was about to hang up.” 

Cole laughs and Dean can hear him shuffling around. “You know, there’s more to my life than being Dean Winchester’s friend, bitch.”

“Bullshit, since when?” Dean chuckles and quickly moves on. “So, I’m in this… pickle… Why is it called in a pickle? Why pickle?”

“Is this really the issue you want to discuss? Some of us work for a living. Get to the point.” 

“Alright, alright. So, I got a new cook. He’s got these killer blue eyes and the best dick I’ve ever had, seen, touched— you name it, it’s just the best dick ever.”

“I still don’t see the pickle here.”

Dean rolls his eyes but he can hear that Cole is smiling. “I just don’t know where we stand really. Is it just sex and cooking my food? Or does he actually like me? I’m not asking you to answer these questions either, just sayin’ what my pickle is.”

“Yeah, I know a rhetorical question when I hear it, dipshit. Why don’t you just ask him?”

“That’s dumb. The fuck do I even say?”

“I don’t know. Write a damn note: do you like me? Yes or no? And fold it into a damn heart.”

“You’re an ass. Why’d I even call you again?”

Cole laughs obnoxiously. “I don’t know. Look, if you don’t want to ask like an adult would, you got to test him.”

“M’listening…”

“Make his ass jealous. You’re not exclusive, right?” Dean mumbles the answer and Cole continues. “See? Fuck someone else and see how he takes it.” 

“Finally some sound advice.” Dean takes a deep breath and then starts to plot. “Alright, I gotta plan this shit out. Thanks, asswipe.” Cole starts responding with his goodbye but Dean cuts him off. “Wait, how are you? You good? Friends ask that shit right?”

Cole laughs again and takes a few seconds to respond. “Yeah, I’m good, bitch. Thanks for asking, friend.” He hangs up a moment later and Dean stays laying on the dock a while longer, thinking about how no one he knows can ever please him the way Cas does. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t get off at all with someone else. The only person that can get Dean off right now — that isn’t Cas — is Dean. 

Before driving back, Dean decides to jack off. He can spread around the precome enough so he smells like sex, but edge himself for the awesome angry sex he’s about to have with Cas. Just the idea has him fully hard as he pulls himself out, and it doesn’t take much to have his head falling back with a moan and his hips bucking off the upholstery.

Dean’s always loved edging. Pushing yourself to the brink of release and then having the willpower to stop, it’s exhilarating, even if it’s really fucking hard sometimes. This time proves to be harder than some, and he stops all contact with a whimper as he teeters the edge. “Ima good boy. Ima good boy. Fuck, fuck!” 

It takes a few moments of breathing, but his cock is still rock hard as he tucks himself away and wipes off his hands. They’re still shaking as he starts the car and heads home — especially because he knows Cas is there. 

This is gonna be fun.


	6. Chapter 6

The suspicion that Dean is off fucking someone else is one thing, but seeing — and smelling — him when he comes back is another. Cas knows he doesn't have the right to be jealous. They're not official. Cas is technically a whore — Dean’s whore, but… still a whore.  _ And yet, it's still not enough for Dean? He literally pays me to fuck him and I do… multiple times a day most of the time, and it's still not enough? _

He slams the refrigerator door shut and whirls around to face Dean. “I'd like to go home.”

“Home?” Dean’s face falls. “I just got he— why?”

“There's enough food in this house for you, and it seems like my  _ other  _ duties have already been handled, so I'd like to go home.” Cas stands his ground, his fists clenching at his sides. He can't decide if he wants to hit him or bend him over and remind him who he belongs to, but right now… he knows neither is a good idea. 

Dean has the nerve to giggle. “Duties.” Cas’ face must scare him straight, because he clears his throat and looks around nervously. “Well, I want you to stay. I’m the boss, right?” 

“Fine,” Cas growls, but flicks his eyes to Dean’s crotch. “Who was he, Dean?”

“Uh... What does it matter? You never said we were exclusive.” 

Of all the things Cas expected him to say, that wasn't it — and now he's leaning a lot heavier toward the “punch him” end of things. “Me? I never said it? Dean, you made fucking you part of my  _ contract  _ negotiations. I—” Cas pauses, realizing that he doesn’t have a leg to stand on. There wasn’t anything in those negotiations that suggested Dean wouldn't  _ also  _ be with other people, but fuck if it doesn't hurt — particularly after their day off in the theater room.  _ I was an idiot to think he wanted more.  _ “Fine. Sit down.”

“Are you really mad?” Dean asks, looking adorably confused when he has no damn right to. “Why don’t you do something about it, then?” He pushes Cas softly, a daring look in his eyes.

Cas grips Dean’s crotch and leans in, whispering in his ear, “That ass… is mine, Winchester. You can let other people touch you all you want… but you know that no one else will fuck you the way that I do. Bend over and slide your jeans down.”

“Yes, Sir.” Dean complies, wiggling out of his pants and stroking his hard cock. “So fuckin’ hard, Cas.”

_ See? If you'd been truly satisfied, it wouldn't be this easy.  _ “I’m going to spank you, Dean. We’ll say… ten times for letting someone else fuck you, and twice more for pushing me. How do you feel about that?” He slides his hand over the skin, squeezing and rubbing to warm it up.

“Fuck... please... Yeah... spank me.” Dean’s breathing is ragged, his skin trembling under Cas’ fingers and he hasn’t even begun.

Cas nods, leaning down to kiss his temple. “Good boy. Breathe for me. Your only rule right now is to breathe.” He slaps down the first time, watching with lust-blown eyes as the skin jumps. Again, Cas slides his hand over the skin and squeezes. 

The noises Dean makes have his cock twitching with desire, nothing,  _ no one _ should sound so good while whimpering. It should be illegal. His hand is no longer moving and he’s gripping the base of his cock, taking quick, shallow breaths. “Cas...” he whispers, pushing back against his hand.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, Dean. I will.” He rubs his back soothingly with one hand as the other spanks again, and a quick third. “You're so good, Dean. Of course I don't want anyone else touching you.”

“I— fuck... Cas...” Dean growls, his legs shaking as Cas slaps his skin again.

“Gods, you're beautiful,” Cas whispers, and the irritation renews — he let someone else touch him. Someone  _ else _ got to see Dean like this, all needy and gorgeous… The next spank is hard enough that it echoes off the walls, and Dean comes. 

It’s obvious it catches him by surprise by the way he clenches and shakes, his legs nearly giving out under him — but the sound he makes has Cas wishing he was already buried deep inside. “Cas! M’sorry... M’sorry!”

“Dean,” Cas says quickly, pulling him up and turning him so he can hug him. “Don't apologize, you didn't do anything wrong. You’re incredible… that was incredible.” He kisses his neck gently, tightening his grip. “Remember that your only rule was to breathe.”

Dean exhales a long, deep breath, nodding under Cas’ kisses as his body shivers. “Cas, I didn’t — there was no one else.” His eyes are still closed as he composes himself. “Stay the night... fuck me...Please.”

“What?” All of that confuses him, from the admission to the request. “What do you mean there was no one else?”

Dean huffs, his brattiness returning more by the second. “I edged. No one else touched me... No one else has touched me since I met you. You’re just so hot when you're mad, and even hotter when you’re possessive.”

Cas clenches his jaw, he should’ve known — but still, something in his chest relaxes knowing that Dean hasn't been with anyone else. He doesn't forget that Dean didn't technically take all of his punishment, but… there are bigger things to worry about right now. “I’m honestly not used to being possessive,” he admits. “There's just something about you. You're a pain in the ass and you infuriate me, but… the thought of someone else touching you makes my blood boil.” 

“Good.” He grins, pulling him in for a kiss and sliding their crotches together. “Am I still in trouble? Will you stay?”

Staying the night sounds dangerous, and Cas isn't sure he's ready for danger. “That depends. Will you promise me that as long as I'm employed here, you won't let anyone else touch you? I'll work extra if I have to.”

“Yeah... I can promise that. If you can promise you won’t fuck someone else, either.” Dean kisses down his neck and then keeps going until he’s on his knees, looking up at Cas through his lashes. “Can I convince you to stay?”

“I won't be with anyone else, either… and you've already convinced me, Dean. I'll stay.” He doesn't have clothes or anything at all that he's going to need, but it doesn't matter. Every single part of him wants this. He runs a hand through Dean’s hair and guides him closer, rutting his clothed cock against his lips. “But you need to eat.”

“This cock? I’ll eat this cock all night, Cas.” He flicks his tongue out along the fabric, still staring into Cas’ eyes.

A low growl rips through his chest and he gives in, pushing his pants down just far enough for his cock to spring free. It smacks Dean’s chin on the way up and even that little bit of contact has Cas desperate for it. “Don't use your hands.”

Dean responds with his mouth, sucking the head in a couple times and popping off to tease. When Cas thrusts forward again, he takes him back inside, letting him slide into his throat as he hums.

Cas stays completely still after that, watching Dean with a sense of awe. “You look impossibly good like this, sweetheart. So good, that's it… just like that.” 

The pet name has Dean moaning and clenching his knees together. He sucks faster and keeps his hands in his lap, and it’s so beautiful that Cas can already feel himself nearing the edge. 

“I want to come on your face,” Cas says suddenly, jerking his hips back just in time to stroke himself and spurt all over that beautiful face. 

Dean’s eyes flutter and his tongue shoots out to catch the come near his mouth. When he licks his lips and smiles up at Cas, he almost forgets he was mad at him at all.

“You… are amazing,” Cas admits, helping Dean to his feet. “Come on, we’ll get you cleaned up and then I'll feed you.”

“What you gonna feed me?” he asks, following Cas so closely they trip over each other’s feet multiple times.

Cas nudges him to get some space, but they come right back together. “I had made you some pasta, but since I'm staying, there's some steaks I've been meaning to cook. Is that acceptable to you, brat?” 

Dean’s giggle should piss him off, but he just can’t find it in him to be mad right now. “Mmhm... lemme have all your meat.”

He flashes him an eye roll and leads him into the bathroom, then turns to pull Dean’s shirt off. “You are ridiculous. Will you shower with me?”

“Yeah. Have you seen my shower? We’ll fit no problem.” Dean turns on the water and then checks Cas out. “Wait, have we ever been completely naked together?” 

_ Great, another thing to worry about.  _ “Um… Not in the light, anyway… I don't think.” He strips slowly, spending more time watching Dean doing the same, and then pulls their bare bodies flush and kisses him gently. “We should spend more time like this, though.”

“I agree.” Dean slides his hands along Cas’ body and smells his skin. “You’re hot.”

The words seem strange coming from someone as inhumanely perfect as Dean, but he’ll take them. “Thank you, now get in the shower.” He lightly spanks him again and chuckles as he moves himself under the water, tilting his head to let it run down his chest. 

Dean’s hands continue to roam his body and when Cas puts his face under the water and closes his eyes, he feels Dean drop in front of him and nuzzle his crotch. “So fucking hot.”

“You are,” Cas agrees, running his fingers through his hair. “But get up. Let's get clean so you can eat… I want your ass later.”

They wash each other off with gentle touches and soft kisses, drying off with idiotic grins on their faces. Dean ruffles his wet hair, making Cas want to slap him again, but the playful face he has just makes him smile.

Cas feeds Dean and cleans up after, then shifts on his feet because this would be the time he normally leaves. “So… What do you usually do after I'm gone?”

“Mope around this giant house and annoy people.” Dean shrugs and holds out his hand. “Let’s just go hang out in my bed. You’re gonna love it.”

“I don't doubt that,” he concedes, following without question. He's nervous in ways he doesn't quite understand, but then again… he hasn't understood much when it's come to Dean. 

Once they're in the room, Cas realizes he put on his work clothes again after their shower, and while he doesn't think Dean will mind him smelling like food, he can't imagine they'd make comfortable pajamas. “Would it be okay if I borrowed some sweatpants?” 

“Course.” Dean pulls out some blue joggers and hands them over. “I wanna see you in my shirt too, actually.” He pulls out a faded Metallica shirt and holds it out with a huge grin.

He changes quickly, and the clothes are a little baggy but otherwise fit pretty well. It's starting to feel pretty domestic, and for the first time, Cas starts to wonder if there's not a potential here for something more. He steps in Dean’s space and reaches out to take his hand, his head tilted in a mix of confusion and curiosity. “Thank you.”

“Welcome. You look kinda adorable.” Dean smacks Cas’ ass and puts on some gray sweats of his own, not bothering with a shirt. 

The groan he makes when he collapses onto his bed makes Cas smile and make his way over, but before he can climb on himself, Dean is sitting up and pulling him down on top of him. Their lips meet before Cas can think twice about it and it quickly turns heated, like neither of them can get enough of the other. 

It doesn’t take them long to both get hard, and soon they’re shoving off the clothes they just put on and Dean’s handing him the lube. “Need you... fuck me, please...”

“I've got you, Dean. It's okay.” Cas plants reassuring kisses over Dean’s flushed skin, and he's surprised when he actually gets away with opening him up a little more than usual. Still, he eases in slowly, kissing those beautiful lips as he sinks a little deeper. 

Dean releases a long moan, his hands white-knuckling the sheets. “Cas...” he whispers as Cas bottoms out and rolls deeper. 

His arms wrap around Cas’ neck to hold him close, and they keep their pace slow and deep. Cas shudders, burying his face in Dean’s neck as his body bows. “You feel so… so good, Dean…”

“Right back at ya, Cas. Fucking love your cock.” Dean starts kissing along his face, running his hands through Cas’ hair, and it feels so different that Cas can't help the soft sound that escapes him. 

It's not long after that Cas feels himself getting close, but he doesn't want this to end. Not this, not yet… Not when he finally feels like this is something more than an arrangement for both of them. “Will you come with me?”

“Yeah... M’close, baby. T-touch me... please.” Dean squirms, his cock twitching in search of Cas’ hand, and it only takes a moment for him to grip it and stroke in time with his thrusts. 

He hangs on just a little longer, but one particularly sinful little moan from Dean has Cas toppling over, coming deep inside him as he speeds up his hand — and Dean follows, whispering Cas’ full name like a prayer and painting their skin white. He wraps his arms around Cas, holding their bodies together while he takes long, deep breaths.

They stay tangled like that for longer than Cas expects, but he's not complaining. Dean is warm and soft in all the right ways, and their bodies fit together so well like this that it'd take a lot to convince Cas they aren't made for each other. 

“See?” Cas asks as he plans a gentle kiss to Dean’s jaw. “Why would I ever want anyone else?”

“I dunno. I’m pretty awesome.” Dean lays his head back with a huff and moves so Cas can keep kissing him. “Let me make you dinner.”

_ What?  _ Cas temporarily pauses his newfound quest to kiss every inch of Dean and brings their eyes level, a skeptical look on his face. “Are you trying to poison me?”

“Why would I poison the best dick I’ve ever gotten? Sounds stupid if you ask me.” Dean flips their positions and kisses down Cas’ neck. “Just let me... I have an idea, but you gotta stay in here until I’m done.”

More curious now than anything, Cas nods. “Deal. But don't be long, I'd like us both to be back in this bed as soon as possible. I was in the middle of something.”

“Were you?” He grins and gets up, sliding his sweats back up before disappearing into the bathroom to clean. When he walks back out, he once again doesn’t bother with a shirt, and he leaves the room with a wink.

It leaves Cas to wonder what Dean's really up to, but instead of snooping, he simply snuggles into the blankets a little more. The sheets smell like Dean, and he allows himself a single moment to grin like an idiot when the scent wafts over him and starts to cling to his skin.

Dean comes back inside much sooner than he would have if he cooked an actual meal, and Cas assumes that he ordered in. “Hungry?” He wiggles his eyebrows and tosses clothes at Cas. “C’mon.”

“Now I have to get dressed, too?” Cas sighs, but gets up and obliges with a small smirk. “I was expecting dinner in bed.”

“Nope. What can I say, ima helpless romantic.” He holds out his hands and waves him over. “Gotta cover your eyes.”

He lets himself be wrapped up by Dean and closes his eyes, curling his fingers against Dean’s skin. “Don't let me run into any walls… I'm a lot less graceful than I look.”

“I know. I saw you trip at least five times since I met you.” Dean chuckles, walking with their bodies flushed together. “Okay, you ready?”

“Oh, hush. Yes, I'm ready.” He holds on a little tighter as Dean lets go, and when he opens his eyes, he sees the dining room is lit by candles. 

“They’re battery operated. They don’t trust me with fire... Guess I’m not graceful, either.” He chuckles, blushing as he walks over to pull out Cas’ chair and after he sits, he pulls off the napkin to reveal a PB&J sandwich. “Ta-da.”

A surprised laugh escapes him. “This… this is wonderful, Dean. I actually love these.” Cas picks one up and sniffs it, making a show of it. “Is this… strawberry jelly?”

“Mmhm. Without the crust. I tried to make some shaped like hearts, but they just looked like a square ballsack so I tossed ‘em.” Dean sits next to him and grabs one, taking a huge bite. “You should kiss the cook, he’s great.”

Cas is all too happy to lean in and kiss Dean, then takes a bite of his own sandwich with warmth in his chest. “This is amazing, Dean. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Dean shoves more in his mouth and stares at Cas, looking lighter than Cas has ever seen him. 

It has Cas leaning in a little closer as he finishes his sandwich, and once he takes the last bite, he tilts Dean’s head toward his by his chin and kisses him again, slow and deep.

It tastes like peanut butter, and Dean seems to like it because he sucks Cas’ tongue into his mouth and moans. His hand slides up Cas’ thigh and he pulls back a little to smile. “Maybe I’m peanut-buttering you up for something...”

Cas' eyes narrow, but he's still slightly smiling. He can't help it... he'd give Dean anything in the world right about now. "For what?"

“I wanna fuck you.” Dean looks a little nervous to ask but he meets his eyes. “I don’t care to do it all the time but I swear I haven’t been able to get your ass off my mind. It’s too damn cute.”

Of all the things he expected, that wasn't it. “Dean, I already told you I like to bottom sometimes. You don't need to butter me up for that.” His stomach flips as he thinks about having Dean inside him, and he instantly squirms. “When?”

“Whenever you want? I mean... I know you bottom sometimes, but that doesn’t mean you wanna bottom for me. I... I know how you see me and I know I fuck around a lot but... I just wanna... I dunno... I wanna make you feel like half as good as you make me feel.”

Cas kisses him again to stop the word vomit. "You always do, Dean. And yes, I want you inside me." He reaches to trail his fingers across Dean's skin. "Whenever you want me."

“Awesome. What about in the morning? Since you’re stayin’... I always want to fuck in the mornings.”

He makes a mental note to get up a little early to prepare for that, but sure enough, he can't tell Dean no. “Sounds perfect to me. How bratty are you as a top?”

“I dunno what you mean. I’m not bratty at all.” Dean licks his lips and looks around the room innocently.

"Right," Cas says with a fond eye roll. "Not at all." He kisses him again, climbing over into Dean's lap for the first time and tugging his head back by his hair to deepen it.

His hands automatically slide up his thighs to grip his hips and he moans into Cas’ mouth. “Not gonna be able to wait until morning if you keep up with this.” Dean chuckles and flicks his tongue against Cas’ lip. “But I want to ride you tonight.”

“I’ll never say no to that.” Cas kisses those addicting lips one more time and slides off to do the few dishes that there are so Missouri doesn't have to, then wipes his hands on his sweats. “So, does that mean your offering up your ass as dessert?”

“Mmhm. Absolutely.” Dean walks past him and smiles when he sees Cas’ eyes drop to his ass. He lowers his sweats just enough for Cas to see his cheeks and then keeps walking toward his room, and Cas catches up almost embarrassingly fast. 

He pushes Dean forward onto his bed and drops to his knees, yanking those pants down a little further and diving in like Dean’s ass really  _ is  _ dessert. 

“Ah, fu— Cas!” Dean buries his face into the blankets and his moans are muffled, but Cas can still hear how much he loves it.

Cas stays right where he is, opening Dean with his tongue and jacking himself off until he doesn't think he can wait another second to be inside of him. He pulls back to undress the rest of the way, then climbs up onto the bed. "Get over here. Now."

Dean scrambles over, kissing his way up Cas’ body and straddling his lap. He rubs his ass on Cas’ cock a few times to tease, his bottom lip between his teeth. “You want it, baby?”

"Yes," he hisses out, gripping Dean's hips trying to angle right to sink in.

He teases a little more, letting the head slide in and then lifting off with a moan. “Mmmm... I don’t believe you.” But he must see something in Cas’ eyes because within seconds he’s sinking back on his cock, rolling his hips as he bottoms out.

"Better." Cas pins them together, making Dean take every inch and not letting him move at all. "Stay... Oh, fuck." His head tips back against the pillow and he shudders, getting a little harder inside Dean's tight, hot ass.

He doesn’t miss the cocky grin on Dean’s face as he sits there. His nails rake down Cas’ chest and his hips try to grind down, his mouth parting when Cas’ cock hits his prostate.

It feels so good that Cas can't even argue — he lets out a shaky breath and rolls his hips up to stay deep, his eyes taking in every centimeter of Dean’s gorgeous body. “You're gorgeous. Just like this.”

“I know.” Dean moans, lifting up until he’s almost off and then slamming back down, riding Cas like he’s already nearing the edge. His cock throbs against Cas’ stomach, leaking a line of precome across his abs as Dean grinds deep again. “Fuck... you— you’re gorgeous like this too, Cas. Fuck, I love your cock.”

“Take as much as you want, but don't come.” Cas grips Dean’s cock and squeezes the base as he hammers up into him. “Don't — come — until morning,” he moans out. “I don't want to waste a drop, Dean. Want all of it… inside me—” the mere thought makes his breath catch in his throat, and his movements become erratic — “I want you to fill me up so much it's spilling out around your — cock — fuck!” Cas comes with a gasp, pulling Dean down and scratching his skin as he shoves himself in fully, making Dean take it all. 

The pathetic whimpers coming from Dean and the way his body trembles make Cas hold him even tighter. If he didn’t know how much Dean loved edging, he’d feel bad — but he knows Dean loves being pushed to the edge and denied, it’s written all over his blissed out face as Cas leans in to kiss him.

“So good, Dean. You're so damn good for me, I'm so lucky,” Cas whispers between soft kisses. “You're perfect.”

“Yeah... Right back at ya.” Dean nuzzles in to just sit there and breathe, his body slowly coming down as Cas praises him.

They stay like that until they're both on the brink of sleep, and Cas finally nudges him. "We should get cleaned up and get some rest, sweetheart."

“Mmm, clean me... please.” Dean collapses to the side and lays there like he’s dead weight.

Cas lets out a chuckle. “Such a precious baby, you are.” But nevertheless, he takes his time cleaning Dean up and forcing some water down his throat, then curls up next to him and holds him close. 

This day ended up a lot differently than Cas had expected, but as he drifts off… he has a feeling that the morning will be even stranger.


	7. Chapter 7

In the morning, Cas wakes up and sneaks out of bed to brush his teeth and fix his hair. He leans against the sink as the previous day runs back through his mind, and for the life of him he can't figure out what's going on.  _ Are we dating? Am I still just his whore and his chef? What would happen if I stopped working for him… Would he forget me like he forgets everyone else? _

Those thoughts don't do him any favors, and he distracts himself by prepping just in case Dean was serious. Part of him is nervous that in the cold light of day, Dean won't be nearly as warm and attentive as he was yesterday — but either way, he wants to get fucked. 

It's been so long for him that he actually struggles with prepping himself, but he blames that partially on nerves. They don't dissipate very much by the time he gets back into the bedroom and crawls naked into bed.

Dean stirs, sitting up a few seconds later and disappearing into the bathroom. It makes Cas worry his fear was right and that Dean’s completely forgotten their arrangement, but he walks back out a moment later with his hair a little wet from him washing his face. “Mornin’, Cas.” He looms over him, his cock already hard. “Still gonna let me have this ass?”

“I prepped for you,” he admits, spreading his legs to pull Dean between them. “It's yours if you still want it.”

“You’re fuckin’ awesome.” Dean shoves in his fingers, playing with the lube in his ass. “Been thinking about this ass for a while, Cas. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

All at once, his stomach flips and his cock hardens. The dual sensations war with the feeling of Dean’s fingers, and Cas tries and fails to say… well, anything at all. He gasps and kisses him, sliding his tongue into Dean’s mouth and curling his fingers against his skin. 

Dean makes an impatient noise as he pulls out his fingers and starts to lube his aching cock. “Gonna come embarrassingly fast, but I don’t give a fuck.” He lines up, pressing against Cas’ tight hole with the head.

“Go ahead," Cas rushes out as he pulls his legs up. "Come whenever you want to, you've earned that.”

Dean pushes inside, his eyes slamming shut in pleasure as a moan escapes his lips. “Casss...”

The first couple of thrusts still burn like hell, but gods… Cas had almost forgotten how good it feels to bottom. He lets out a grunted whine and bites his lip to stop himself from making any more of those noises as he finally starts to adjust and the pleasure takes over. “Dean…”

“Let me hear you, Cas. Don’t hold back... I can’t.” Dean finds a slow deep pace, their eyes locked together. Something about his tone has Cas relaxing and running his hands all over Dean’s beautiful body, letting his cock stay throbbing and neglected between them.

Right now, he only wants to feel Dean. 

“Feels… really good,” he says lamely, but he doesn't blame himself. He's impressed he got any words out at all with the way his entire being is overtaken with Dean, but one particular thrust hits a spot he's long since forgotten. He moans, loud and needy. 

“I love how you sound, baby. So fucking good.” Dean leans in and kisses him, sliding his tongue into his mouth and lifting Cas up a little to hit deeper. “Shit— Cas... touch yourself.”

He waits as long as he dares before finally wrapping a hand around himself and stroking quickly. All it does is make him get louder. “Dean! Oh, f— right there, right —”

“Cas, m’gonna... fuck... gonna come.” Dean’s body begins to tremble and he slams inside with a long, drawn-out grunt, humping his way through it. The flood of come inside his body has Cas gasping and stroking faster until he's making a mess all over himself and whispering Dean’s name, regretting for just a moment that it didn't last longer for either one of them. 

Still, he's hazy and content as he kisses Dean through the come-down. Even after they catch their breath, Dean stays inside him, like he also wishes they lasted longer, too. It seems like no money in the world could get him to pull himself out. He doesn’t move until Cas’ body forces him out, and even then he just lays next to Cas and holds him, looking as though he’s about to fall asleep.

“Have I told you lately how lucky I am?” Cas asks quietly. 

“Mmhm... You really are.” Dean smiles lazily, his eyes still closed. “I think I’m the lucky one here.”

Cas watches him for a few moments without responding, and when he thinks Dean has fallen asleep, he sneaks out of bed. While part of him wants to stay there until Dean physically removes him, the other part is trying to act rationally. Things between them are moving at a strange pace, and if he's not careful... he'll end up on the cover of the town's tabloid as Dean's latest scorned ex. 

He dresses quickly and ducks out of the room, but when he tries to turn away from the door, he runs smack into Jask's giant chest. “Gods, Jask. Were you listening?”

“What? No. Of course not.” The bodyguard shifts. “If I had been, it would have been like twenty minutes ago, not right now.”

“How do you know what was happening twenty minutes ago if you weren't listening?” Cas challenges.

“Oh, I was then.” Jask barks a laugh, probably waking Dean in the process. “Sneaking off, though?”

Cas blushes, skirting around him. “That's none of your business. Just… tell him I needed to… run home for some reason. I'll be back to cook him lunch.”

“Are you okay?” Jask grabs his arm. “I wasn’t listening to you guys, not on purpose, I just happened to be walking past at a very... intense moment. It all sounded good, aren’t you guys good?” He looks genuinely concerned, and it's because of that that Cas actually stops to answer honestly. 

“We’re great, and that's what scares me. At some point, this became… more to me. He became more. But we know that Dean Winchester doesn't date — at least not for more than one night, and I've already gotten more than that… and less than that, all at once.” 

Jask nods and looks around. “Look, I can’t defend who he was... but he has been different lately. I think that’s because of you.”

Every little piece of Cas wants to believe that. “I'm not going anywhere, Jask. I just need a little bit of air, okay? I'll be back for lunch. Maybe just… order him breakfast? Can you take care of that for me?”

“Yeah, I can do that. See you later, Cas.” He fishes out his phone and walks back down the hall, and Cas can't help but think he said something wrong as he finally turns and heads out to his car.

The thought of Dean waking up alone makes him sad, but he knows this is for the best; It's better to pull back before either of them get too attached… especially Cas.  _ I always get too attached. _

~~~~

When he returns for lunch, he goes straight to the kitchen and makes small talk with Missouri as he whips up a steak salad with fries in it. It was a diner specialty, and if he can convince Dean to eat some honest to god vegetables in the process, all the better. 

“Lotta green on that plate,” Missouri teases, bumping him with her hip as she leaves the kitchen. 

Cas assumes Dean can smell the food, because he comes wandering just as Cas sets the table. “There you are. Thought I was gonna have to put you on a milk carton,” he jokes, leaning in to kiss him.

The kiss goes straight down to Cas’ toes, and he realizes he's going to need a lot more than a couple of hours away from Dean to stop that feeling. “No need for all of that, I told Jask I'd be coming back. Didn't he tell you?” 

“He might have mentioned it.” Dean kissed again and sat down to eat. “Wait... is this healthy?”

“It has more fries and red meat than anything else, so... no. Not really." He pushes the plate toward Dean and raises a single eyebrow. "I expect you to actually eat all of it, Dean. Not just the parts that are greasy.”

Dean narrows his eyes and starts to eat, looking at it like it isn’t half bad and then eating much faster. “So, uh... I been thinkin’...”

“No, I won't put you on an all-meat diet,” Cas says as he starts to clean up. “Though I have to admit, that's amusing.”

Dean huffs and shakes his head. “Not that, asshat. I’ve been thinkin’ about us. You wanna go to dinner? Like a date.”

Cas is only surprised by the question until he realizes that Jask probably put him up to it. “Do you mean that, or did your bodyguard tell you to ask?”

“My bodyguard? No, Jask didn’t tell me to ask. Was he supposed to tell me to ask?” Dean tilts his head and chews slowly.

“Um…” Cas blushes, dropping his gaze to the dishes. “I… nevermind. Yes, I would like that very much,” he admits quietly.

“Okay, cool.” Dean eats more and then walks over to Cas, backing him against the counter. “Can I take you to the most expensive restaurant in town?” 

The most expensive restaurant in town meant paparazzi, and Cas can't decide if that's a good thing or a really, really bad thing. It's just a shame that having Dean so close to him is making his thoughts all muddled. “We don't have to go anywhere fancy, Dean. I'll be happy going anywhere with you.”

“I know, but... I wanna spoil you for like a couple hours. Y’know, flowers... dinner... dope dick.”

Cas sighs almost pathetically and kisses him slowly. “Okay, fine. But fake flowers, please. I won't be responsible for stealing from the bees.” 

“Fake fl— how about chocolate flowers?” Dean grins, probably already planning on eating all of them, and then looks into Cas’ eyes. “You like bees?”

“Everybody likes bees,” Cas responds. “Anyone that likes to be alive, that is. They're incredibly necessary and wonderful creatures.”

“Oh yeah, I saw this documentary, and it said we’d die without them. It showed the world slowly dying over a few years and then nothin’. Just the damage humans leave behind.”

_ That's it, I'm going to marry him. _ Cas throws himself at Dean and kisses him more heatedly than he ever has before, tugging his hair and bringing their bodies together.

He moans, wrapping his arms around him and then laughing softly. “So we like bees that much, huh?”

“Mm, but I like you more,” Cas says without hesitation, then continues kissing him. “Fuck me again while I'm still open and I'll fuck you in the restroom of that expensive restaurant.”

“Jesus Christ on a cracker.” Dean pulls his arm. “Let’s go!”

They barely make it to Dean’s room, but the second they do, Cas is stripping and bending forward over Dean’s nightstand. He decides to throw a little bit of Dean’s brattiness back at him, saying, “Try to last longer than four minutes this time, hm? Once I have your ass again later I won't want to switch for a while.”

Dean gasps and slaps his ass. “I would take that as a compliment, dick.” He lines up and shoves inside before Cas can respond, grinding his hips when he’s deep. “You didn’t last much longer, baby.”

“I— oh, fuck.” Cas tips his head back with his jaw slack and grips the other edge of the nightstand. “Still outlasted you.”

Dean pushes Cas down further, slamming inside him hard and setting a fast, rough pace. It’s much different than that morning, but it still feels absolutely incredible and is more than enough to leave Cas speechless and moaning. 

He reaches down to stroke himself as he arches his back and meets each hard thrust, wiggling his ass. “You… shouldn't be allowed to be this good at  _ this,  _ too,” he grunts out.

“Course I am... I’m Dean... fuckin’... Winchester.” He huffs a laugh and braces his foot on the stand, barreling into Cas’ prostate.

All pretense is gone, as is Castiel's self control and ability to conduct himself with any sort of dignity. He dissolves into a whimpering, moaning mess, then splatters the front of the nightstand with come as he lets go without even meaning to.

Dean’s cocky chuckle behind him nearly ruins it, but it still feels so damn good he can’t focus. He pulls out suddenly and starts to jack off, pushing Cas down to his knees. “C’mon... let me come on your face, Cas.”

He pivots quickly to face him with his mouth open and eyes shut, and Dean groans just as come spurts from his throbbing cock. His hips cant forward and push into Cas’ mouth to make him take it all, and Cas sucks greedily until Dean taps the side of his head to make him stop. 

“Sorry,” Cas rushes out, but immediately dives back in to suck him again. 

“Aah, fuck, Cas.” Dean pulls back with a flinch, his hand covering his sensitive cock. “Let’s do our date tonight. You’re not busy.”

“Fine, but new plan. I'm going to suck you off in that bathroom. I can't get enough.” He leans in to kiss and bite along Dean's thigh, burrowing his face in Dean's crotch.

“Can I fuck your face, Cas?” Dean lets him, rubbing his cock along his face. “You like my come?”

Cas nods, keeping his jaw slack and tongue out to taste him whenever he can. “Yes, I do... and yes, you can.”

“Good. I love yours too, so you can fuck my face right back.” Dean chuckles and bites his lip. “You’re really fucking awesome.”

Standing on shaky legs, Cas pulls Dean in. “So are you.”

~~~~

The second they get out of the Impala at the restaurant, the cameras are on them. Cas tries to stay behind Dean as much as he can, but he still ends up walking through the doors with a hand shielding his face from the flashes. “You deal with this all the time?!”

“Nah. It’s only like that when I’m not alone. If I was with J, only a quarter of those camera dudes would give a fuck at all. Hey, Josh.” Dean pulls out a 20 and slides it over to the host. “Didn’t make a reservation.” 

“Not a problem, Mr. Winchester. I’ll have you seated in five.” He nods and takes his leave, and Dean turns to kiss Cas.

_ I'm so, completely in over my head.  _ Cas kisses him back without hesitation, but his brows stay pinched together. “You're on a first name basis with him?”

“Yeah, but he still insists on callin’ me Mr. Winchester. I hate it.” Dean looks around at all the people staring and smiles at some girl’s phone camera. “Weirdos.”

Josh comes back and leads them to a booth, and doesn't leave them alone at all until after he's got both their drink orders and their appetizer selection is placed on their table in front of them. Finally, he leaves and Cas takes a breath. “Is it always that… in your face here?”

“Yeah, kinda. Food is great, though.” He picks up the fork and scoops some food, leaning forward to feed Cas. 

It's a gesture that would be a lot nicer if it didn't come with blinding flashes and whispers, but Cas slides his tongue under the fork to guide it into his mouth nonetheless. 

Turns out, Dean wasn't joking — even that one bite is better than anything Cas has had in years that he didn't prepare himself, and he lets out a soft moan as he chews slowly. “Okay. You win, that's incredible.”

“Almost as good as my cook’s food.” Dean winks and takes a bite for himself. “I’m not even biased, swear.”

“Mmm.” Cas smiles softly and watches Dean, wondering how the hell they got to this place so quickly. “You're not biased, I really am a fantastic chef.”

“See.” Dean chuckles and eats more, looking around at the people watching. “Kay, this is probably the last time we come here. Normally, I like to show off and you’re so damn handsome I really  _ wanted _ to show you off, but... I actually like spending time with you... without other people around. I don’t like how they’re watching us.”

Cas nods, turning an almost menacing glare on the cameraman closest to them. “I understand, Dean. I was perfectly content in the theater room.” 

“Yeah?” Dean lights up, reaching over to bring Cas’ hand to his lips. “Alright, next date night we’re stayin’ in.” He winks just as someone walks over looking nervous. 

“Hi, Dean. Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to say happy birthday.” She smiles at his blush and he rubs the back of his neck.

“Uh, thank you.” He looks at Cas as she walks away and smiles nervously. “Okay... So, maybe we’re secretly celebrating my birthday.”

_ What?!  _ “You should've told me, I didn't get you anything… but you're at least going to let me pay for dinner.” He leans in to kiss his cheek, then smiles as he remembers something else. “Still want to fuck my face before we leave, birthday boy?”

“Absolutely yes.” Dean smiles, leaning in for a proper kiss. “You don’t gotta buy dinner, Cas. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to get me something... I just wanted to spend the day with you.”

His chest swells a little and he realizes that maybe he's not alone in this — maybe this really is more for Dean, too. “It's not an obligation, and I'm sorry now that I left this morning. I wouldn't have if I'd known.”

“Nah, it’s fine. You needed air.” Dean takes a drink and looks around them. “Almost done? I’m already gettin’ hard under this table.”

Cas' smile fades slightly. Dean obviously did talk to Jask, but it makes little difference... unless Dean only asked him on this date because Jask told him to. Either way, that sounds like a problem for a later version of Castiel, and he nods as he slides his hand down to palm Dean. “I'm half tempted to get under the table and give them something to take pictures of,” he whispers, nipping at Dean's earlobe.

“You— uh... We might get kicked out. M’not that special... fuck... that sounds awesome. Meet me in the bathroom ASAP.” Dean stands up and darts toward the back, and Cas only waits a handful of seconds before following. When he shuts the door behind him, Dean is already stroking his bare cock, his bottom lip between his teeth. “There you are...” he says as he pulls Cas in for a kiss.

His body’s response is instant, and he holds that kiss as long as he dares before finally dropping down to his knees. “It's your birthday. Am I allowed to touch myself during this?”

“Hell yeah. Touch yourself but don’t come... I want you to fuck my face too... Take it out, Cas.” Dean runs his hands through his hair with a smile, and Cas slowly licks his lips as he undoes his pants to free himself. 

He strokes once, rocking up into his fist, then opens his mouth for Dean without breaking eye contact.

Feeling him shiver makes Cas almost smile, but Dean’s sliding his cock in before he can. He groans, bracing one of his hands on the cell wall and thrusting in further. “Casss...”

Very aware that the door doesn't have a lock on it, Cas’ cock throbs in his hand as Dean starts to move. Out there, he hates being in the spotlight, but here? The thought of getting caught with Dean Winchester’s dick in his throat makes him moan and push forward for more.

“So good... man, I love your mouth. Even when it’s sassy as fuck.” Dean’s grip tightens in his hair and he starts thrusting in and out, a slow, deep pace to start.

_ Mine? Has he heard himself speak?  _ Cas narrows his eyes and swallows around him, suffocating that cock as surely as it's suffocating him. Dean lets go of his head and braces both hands on the wall, speeding up his hips and groaning every time it hits the back of his throat. He strokes himself faster as he moans around that thick length, sucking greedily when Dean’s no longer thrusting hard enough.

Dean releases a choked-off moan as he pushes all the way in, coming hard down that tight, hot throat. He rolls his hips, keeping his cock inside while he catches his breath, and Cas struggles to keep himself still as his own cock begs for attention.

He isn't built for edging the way Dean is. 

When Dean finally pulls out, Cas licks the come and saliva from the corners of his mouth and stands up quickly on shaky legs. “Get down.” 

“Yes, Sir.” Dean drops down and tucks his own cock away, his tongue sticking out happily. Cas growls at the sight and guides his length into Dean’s mouth, pushing in until he meets resistance, then pulling back out. 

“The fact that it's your birthday and you want  _ my  _ cock in your throat…” Cas shudders, shoving in again and drawing back out, over and over, to the point he's getting louder than Dean. Finally, he snaps his hips and stays deep, humping Dean’s gorgeous face until the feel of his nose pressing Cas’ pelvis starts to get uncomfortable. “Squeeze my ass. Pull me in, show me you — want it.”

Dean complies with a growl, his throat vibrating around Cas’ length as he pins him there, squeezing his cheeks so hard that his nails dig into the skin.

He braces his whole upper body on the wall over Dean’s head and rolls his hips with a desperate moan. He’s already so on edge from tasting Dean that it doesn't take much to have him coming undone, emptying fully before he can even try to leave that glorious mouth to come on his face.

Dean sucks it all down hungrily, his eyes locked with Cas’ as he swallows it and keeps him seated inside. His tongue slides around Cas’ cock lazily until he’s overly sensitive and pulls out.

“You're incredible. Come here.” He lifts Dean up and kisses him messily, touching every inch of skin he can. “Did you hear the door at some point?”

“I dunno.” Dean shrugs, kissing him again. “Will you stay tonight?”

“Two nights in a row?” Cas grins, leaning in to bite Dean's bottom lip. “Absolutely yes.”

“Whatever, it’s my birthday and we need some pie.” Dean fixes Cas’ pants for him and then goes to wash up. “But not this place, they don’t know real pie.”

Cas hums, thinking maybe it's time to return to the scene of the original crime. “Should we go back to Page’s?” He laces their fingers together and keeps him close as they return to the table, but freezes when he sees their plates are already being cleared off. 

“Oops.” Dean shrugs and pulls Cas along to pay the tab. “Fine, Page’s for pie. But one day... you’re gonna have to make me one. It was part of your interview.”

_ Well, at least he's nice regarding some busboys.  _ “Mmhm. There were lots of things part of my interview, and I won't apologize that one of those things is vastly more fun than the other.” He kisses Dean as he nudges him out of the way to actually pay, swatting Dean’s hand when he tries to take over. “It's your birthday. You pay me too much as it is.”

Dean groans, rolling his eyes at Cas and shoving his hands in his pants. “Next you’ll be wanting to drive.”

_ “My _ car, maybe. Some things are better left  _ not  _ shared.” Cas grins, heading out of the restaurant into the cool night. “Besides… my car costs less. It won't be as big of a loss if I wreck it because you've got your mouth around my cock.” He ducks into the passenger side of the Impala and laughs to himself as Dean joins him. “What, roadhead wasn't part of the deal?”

“Hey, I’m down for roadhead, baby. But not with you drivin’ my Baby.” Dean backs up the car and puts her in drive, smiling like he doesn't have a care in the world. “Thanks for a great birthday, Cas. Best one to date.”


	8. Chapter 8

This time when Cas wakes up first, he stays. Nothing and no one can make him leave the warmth of Dean's bed  _ or _ his embrace. He smiles to himself and runs his fingers lightly over Dean’s arms, which are wrapped tightly around him like the hottest blanket he's ever had. 

He knows there's another business meeting that night hosted by Dean, and he really should get up to start preparing for it — but he tells himself just to stay for five more minutes. Right as he’s trying to convince himself to actually get up, he feels Dean stirring and rocking forward, his hard cock sliding along Cas’ ass. 

“Mmm...” Dean moans, rolling his hips again while his hand slides down Cas’ torso. 

Carefully, Cas rolls to face him and starts playing with him — rubbing his cock through his boxers and sneaking a finger through the hole to tease the head. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Mornin’... I like that nickname... it can stay.” Dean smiles sleepily, nuzzling in to kiss along Cas’ face.

It feels good, and Cas sort of likes how distracted he is. “How long do you think you can pretend I'm  _ not  _ touching you? Tell me about your business meeting tonight.”

He pulls him out properly and strokes with a tight fist, and Dean falls onto his back with a grunt, his hand raking through his hair while he gathers his thoughts. “Uh... it’s...” he squeaks out and then clears his throat. “It’s Ashton’s store. He— fuck— he owns the douchy upscale sporting goods store downtown.” Dean bucks his hips into Cas’ hand and fists his hands in the sheets. “He wants a new ship...ment, but — goddamnit, Cas.”

“What?” Cas asks innocently, twisting his hand and swiping his thumb through the bead of precome. “I'm not the one who’s asking for a new shipment. Don't ‘goddamnit’ me.” 

Dean growls, biting his bottom lip and just rocking into his hand for a while. Cas chuckles, deciding not to punish him for failing so quickly — Cas wouldn't have even gotten a full sentence out. 

“I want you to come in my hand. Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Give me enough that it'll be nice and wet when I touch myself after?”

“Fuck... yes... I wanna come in your hand, Sir. Will— will you come on me?” Dean squirms, moaning loudly.

"Would you like that?" Cas leans down to tease Dean's nipple with his teeth and speeds up his hand, trying to mock the way he's seen Dean masturbate.

“Fuck yeah, Cas. Fuckin’ love your come on my skin.” Dean’s hips began to move, his skin flushing and nearly every gorgeous freckle becoming visible. It's such a perfect sight that Cas stays right there at the same pace - not wanting Dean to recover, but also not wanting to push him over yet. 

_ I'm the luckiest man alive right now.  _ “So good, Dean. There you go… grab the headboard above your head. I want to see every inch of you when you come for me.”

When Dean complies, the muscles down his arms and chest pop beautifully, and Cas is so hard in his pajamas it’s becoming difficult to ignore. “Cas... so friggin good.”

“Mmhm. I should do this more often, I love the way your cock feels in my hand.” He leans in to kiss Dean’s neck and speeds up again, biting down when his own length throbs insistently.

“Oh go— Cas... m’gonna— tell me...” Dean’s entire body strains as he fights his release, the bite shoving him to the edge just like Cas had known it would.

He waits another few seconds before whispering right into his ear, "Come for me, Dean."

Dean doesn’t respond with words, he responds with the most beautiful moan Cas has ever heard come from a human. His back arches as come spurts all over Cas’ hand and up Dean’s stomach. “Unngh!” Dean slumps on the bed, his breathing uneven.

Under normal circumstances, he'd give Dean a moment to breathe, but he can't. Not right now. He shoves his own boxers down with his clean hand and spreads Dean's come over his hard, aching cock, stroking quickly as he licks up the rest of the mess.

“That’s so damn hot... fuck, Cas... everything about you is so damn hot.” He watches with lips parted and eyes wide, his rough hands sliding up Cas’ skin.

Something tells Cas he won't be lasting nearly as long as Dean had. His hips jerk as he swallows the last little bit of come, and then he kisses Dean and rubs the tip of his cock against his stomach.

“Fuck, Cas... I can’t wait to feel you paint my skin... I’ll eat every fucking drop.”

Holding himself up is getting harder, but Cas just strokes faster, closing his eyes and dropping his forehead down to the pillow next to Dean’s head as he angles his ass up and strokes a little faster. “Dean… I…” 

He abruptly pulls back and nearly loses his balance as he comes, covering Dean’s stomach and crotch. 

Dean huffs a deep laugh, his body squirming and spent cock twitching. “Love when you come on me, Cas.”

“Good.” He kisses him again, then rolls over onto his side and hums. “Now I need a shower before I start cooking.”

“Mmmhm... Can I get a big ass breakfast sandwich, chef.” Dean nudges him playfully, biting back a laugh.

Cas clicks his tongue. “Mmm... maybe. What's in it for me?”

“Uhhh...” Dean rolls over and stares down at him, leaning in to kiss him softly. “Say yes and I’ll give you a quick little show.”

"Truthfully, I'd have done it just for the kiss." He brings their lips together again and then smiles. "But yes. I'll make you a... big ass breakfast sandwich."

“Mmm, thank you.” Dean kisses him again and lays back down, running his fingers through Cas’ come and sucking them into his mouth. 

_ How am I supposed to go anywhere with him in here looking like that?  _ “Stoppit, or you're going to starve to death in this room.” He takes one last look and then gets dressed, making his way out to the kitchen. 

Twenty minutes later, he comes back into the room with a platter of food — up to and including a “big ass breakfast sandwich,” or, rather, two placed together to look like a bubble butt. 

Dean’s fresh out of the shower, droplets of water still dripping down his neck as he looks at the food. “You’re friggin awesome.” He notices the butt as he’s reaching for one, and then busts up laughing. “Wait, you made an ass!”

“You wanted a big ass, so that's what you got.” He leans in to kiss him quickly then heads for the bathroom - stopping at the door long enough to slide his pants down and show Dean  _ his  _ ass - then closes the door behind him and starts the shower. 

He may not have a clue what's happening anymore, but he does know one thing: he likes it.

~~~~

The chatter coming from the dining room sets Cas’ teeth on edge. Already, Dean seems to be on the defensive and his associates are treating Cas like the help — which, to be fair, he  _ is  _ the help, but he's also more.  _ Or, at least I thought I was.  _

He puts the finishing touches on the appetizer plates he threw together and carries them out, pushing the door closed behind him with his hip. He places one at each end of the table and circles behind Dean, trailing his fingertips across Dean’s shoulders as if that would remind him that he's supposed to be something more. 

“Can I get any of you anything else?”

Dean smiles up at him warmly. “Nah, Cas, it’s f—”

“Yeah, actually.” Ashton points at his food. “Can I get some salt?” 

“Think you’re salty enough, Ash. How about you just eat and shut the fuck up for a change?” Dean sets his fork aside and stares him down, all warmth gone from his eyes.

Ashton licks the corner of his mouth with an offended smirk. "What's wrong, Dean? Don't make enough money for sitting around on your ass, you can't give your guests some salt?"

"Excuse me," Cas cuts in, grabbing the salt shaker from its spot six inches from Ashton's elbow. He shakes his head slightly at Dean in a silent plea for him to stand down, then sprinkles some salt on Ashton's plate. "Do you need anything else?"

“No. He doesn’t.” Dean’s fists clench. “He isn’t your fucking servant, you lazy bitch. You have your food and a drink, move the fuck on.”

Jask tenses from the other side of the room like he knows what’s coming, and he nods for Cas to back up. Unfortunately for someone, that isn't going to happen. "D— Mr. Winchester," Cas says firmly. "This is my  _ job. _ You hired me to cook and serve meals. That's what I'm doing." He sets his jaw and starts to walk back to the kitchen, but stops dead when he hears Ashton laughing. 

"I saw a little video that says you're a lot more than his chef. How much do you charge for the...  _ other _ services? I'd like to take a ride or two."

He hears the scraping of Dean’s chair as he lunges at Ashton, and when Cas turns, he sees Dean’s fist connecting with his face. He knows better than to get involved now, that's what Jask is for — so he allows himself to enjoy the furious expression on Dean’s face and the gorgeous lines of his muscles as he tackles Ashton to the ground. 

Ashton is nearly Dean’s size, so when he punches him back, Cas actually flinches at the way Dean’s face jerks away. No one tries to stop it, Jask is right there, but he isn’t intervening yet. He’s just watching in a stance that says he’s ready to pounce when things get too far, and Cas nearly tries to pull Dean away when he sees blood. Whose blood it is, he isn’t sure.

“What’s wrong, Winchester? Didn’t want the world to know your boyfriend is only around because you pay him to cook for you?” He punches Dean again, and this time, Cas knows the blood is coming from Dean’s eyebrow, but it doesn’t slow him down in the slightest. He punches Ash two more times before Jask is finally jumping in the middle.

He doesn't see what happens next. He doesn't know how to make this better, so why make it worse? There's nothing he can do but head back into the kitchen and lean against the counter as he tries to catch his breath, but the more he thinks about what just happened, the angrier he gets.

A moment later, the door bursts open and Dean stumbles through. There’s blood dripping down the side of his face and his chest is still rising and falling with deep breaths as he approaches. He grabs Cas by the shirt and kisses him, their teeth clattering as he pins Cas to the counter and slots between his legs.

It's an unfair maneuver, because as badly as Cas wants to be angry with Dean for what just happened — he's now so turned on it makes him grunt. He grips Dean's hips hard enough to hurt his own fingers and grinds against him, deepening the kiss and flipping their positions so Dean's the one pressed against the counter.

Dean reaches up to tug on Cas’ hair, kissing and biting down his neck and rutting their crotches together. The door opens and closes abruptly, and neither of them pay it any mind.

"I don't need you to fight my battles," Cas rushes out as he starts to undo Dean's jeans.

“I don’t care.” Dean pulls at Cas’, sliding his hand against the fabric around his hard bulge before shoving those down too. “You’re battles are my battles, now.” 

His eyes flash as he pulls Dean's cock out and spits on them both, then presses him against the counter as he brings them together and strokes roughly. "Should've ignored him." He bites Dean's neck hard and he moans, baring it for more.

“Why?” Dean bucks into his hand, his eyes rolling slightly. “Not the first time I kicked his ass... won’t be the last.”

A small smirk flashes across Cas' face as he strokes a little faster, his breathing heavy. "Because... I want... that video."

“Ah, fuck... me too.” Dean kisses him again, his fingers digging into Cas’ hips with a loud groan.

"That's good, Dean. Let them hear you. Come for me." He slides his cock against Dean's as he twists his hand, pumping quickly as he kisses him again and sucks his tongue. 

Dean releases a choked-off “uhhghhh” noise as he comes, covering Cas’ cock with his spend. The whimper he lets out after makes Cas shiver, and one more look at how unreasonably good Dean looks has him spilling over too, adding to the mess. Dean gasps, laying their foreheads together with a throaty laugh. “That was... friggin awesome.” He kisses him, looking down at the mess with a grin. “Still mad at me?”

“Yes,” Cas says as he kneels down, sucking Dean’s spent cock into his mouth and cleaning him up. He stays there, relaxing the suction but letting his tongue cup Dean’s shaft as he stares up at him with narrowed eyes.  _ Still mad, but can't keep any part of me off you.  _

Dean stares down, running a hand through Cas’ messy hair and then he tugs him off. “Looks like you’ll get to use that fancy first-aid kit.”

“True,” he says with a laugh, getting up and kissing Dean as Jask walks in. He doesn't pay any mind to the soft cocks or perky asses hanging out, instead, he leans against the counter next to Dean. 

“I threw them all out, but before you even ask… yes, I got a copy of the video, and yes, I watched it.”

“Dick, let us see it.” Dean fixes Cas’ pants before his own and slaps his ass. “Mine.”

Instantly, Cas' hand finds Dean's throat and he squeezes the sides just hard enough to make a point. He raises a single eyebrow, cocking his head to the side. "Sorry... and whose, exactly, are you?"

“Y—yours, Cas.” Dean stares into his eyes as if they’re the only ones around.

"Hmm. Good boy." He kisses Dean and pulls back, letting him go and turning to Jask as he clears his throat. "Anyway, yes. We would like to see it."

Jask just blinks, shifting on his feet and turning his hips away a little bit. "Christ on a cracker. You can't do that after something like that video. You two need to get into porn."

“Maybe we should. Quit all this other bullshit.” Dean holds out his hand and motions impatiently. “C’mon, give it up... Where was it? We’ve fucked in a few public places.”

He pulls out his phone and taps a couple of times, then Dean’s phone dings. “There. Now if you'll excuse me, I… need a break. A long one. Bye.”

As Jask dashes toward the bathroom, Cas huffs a laugh and steps closer to Dean. “Is it sad that I don't even notice when we get caught?”

“Nah. I didn’t notice, either.” Dean pulls out his phone and opens the message, smiling and turning it for them to watch. “Fuck... you look so good with my cock in your mouth.”

Cas flushes, planting a quick kiss to the side of Dean’s neck. “You're right, I do… but you look better with mine in yours. Maybe we  _ will  _ have to start filming our little excursions.”

“I’m down... you wanna be anonymous or... just fucking jump in head first? Is that the saying?” Dean tilts his head to think about it.

"I think in this case, it would be 'hump' in head first," he teases. But the thought of doing porn with Dean Winchester of all people... it's both confusing and exhilarating. "Wait, are we seriously going to do that? This? ... Porn?"

“Yeah...” Dean looks at his face and huffs a nervous laugh. “Unless you were joking... cause in that case... April Fools?”

Cas sucks in a breath, but he honestly doesn't know what to say. "I... um..."  _ I want to, but I don't want others staring at Dean, or staring at me... so maybe I don't want to?  _ "I might be too selfish for that, I'm going to be honest."

“Alright, then this is all they get. They’re weeping across the nation, baby.” Dean chuckles and kisses him. “I like that you wanna be selfish with me.”

It makes Cas lick his lips, anxiety spiking through him as he takes a chance: “I don't want to share my boyfriend with those masses.”

Dean smiles, his eyes dropping to watch Cas’ tongue and then he kisses him, slow and deep. “Boyfriend, huh?” 

“Maybe,” Cas says sheepishly, his grin almost as wide as Dean’s. “Is that okay?”

“Never had one of those before. You sure you wanna be stuck with me, Cas?” Dean speaks again before Cas can. “Actually, I don’t care. You’re stuck with me now,  _ boyfriend.” _

Cas hums, wrapping his arms around Dean and laying his head against his shoulder. “I expect you to keep me employed, though.”

“If you want... or I can be your sugar daddy.” Dean kisses his temple and starts walking them toward his room. “I dunno boyfriend requirements or anything, but I think you’re slackin’ right now, leavin’ me all battered and bruised.”

He rolls his eyes, but smiles anyway and lets himself be led. “I know, how dare I put your orgasms ahead of first aid.”

“No, no. Always do that.” Dean slides a possessive hand inside the back of Cas’ pants, and Cas starts to think he made a very, very good decision.

Except for one thing. 

How in the hell is he going to keep up with Dean’s very specific, very violent kink?

~~~~

“I need your help.” Cas slides a plate full of sloppy joes and French fries in front of Jask, knowing already they're a weak spot for him and hoping they'll butter him up. 

Jask eyes him and warily takes the food. “Okay then... shoot.”

"I need you to pick a fight with Dean. Not today, but... soon, maybe? He's getting antsy, and as easy as it would be for me to shove his smug ass into a wall sometimes, I don't want to fight him, but I don't want him to go around fighting strangers, either. This... seems to be the best compromise."

Jask stares at him mid bite for a few seconds and then he sets the burger aside. “You want me to sacrifice my beautiful face for that douche?” 

“Yes,” he says bluntly. “I’ll make it worth your while, and I think it goes without saying that I'll take care of what he needs  _ after  _ said scuffle.”

“So... I’ll get the rest of the day off and you’ll keep him in the room? Fed and sleepy?” Jask asks.

"Mmhm. And there might be some other perks as well, but there are a few details I need to work out. But I will also make you whatever dessert you want and I won't tell Dean, so he won't try to eat it."

“Now you’re speaking my language. Asshole eats all the sweets. I want my own pie.” Jask starts eating again and then swallows thickly. “And how angry do you want him?”

Cas licks his lips. "Angrier than he was when I punched him, but less angry than he gets around Ashton."

Jask laughs and starts eating again. “Deal. I’ll do it this weekend... won’t be our first fight.”

“If it goes well, I'm hoping it won't be your last, either.” He taps the table and then makes a decision, thanking Jask and sneaking away to call up an old friend. The phone rings several times before finally being answered, and Cas grins. “Ares, hello. I hope this isn't a bad time… but it turns out I need a favor. Are you going to be busy this weekend?”

Jask watches him on the phone, but stays quiet. 

“Um... I don’t think so, what do you need?” Ares asks.

Cas chuckles and walks further away from Jask so he can't hear. "I need you to bring your tightest scrubs and a few bandaids to my current place of employment. Hold on... let me send you some motivation." He minimizes the call to grab a picture of Jask, then sends it over to Ares and puts the phone back to his ear. "He's going to need some medical attention... and maybe some other attention, too."

He can hear Ares’ phone shuffle as he looks, and then he practically yell-moans “oh gods”. They both share a laugh and then Ares woos. “Okay, is this a favor for you, or for me cause... I want that in and around my mouth. All of it.”

"I figured you would. I don't think I've ever met a man more your type. So... like I said, the tight ones. I'll text you the address and the time when I know it. Actually, I'll just call you back later to fill you in on what exactly you're getting into."

“Okay fine, but don’t hurt him too much. I’m riding him as soon as I’m done with the bandages. Where the hell have you been hiding him?”

Deciding to just tell him now, Cas ducks a little deeper into the house and looks around to make sure he's alone. "You know the Winchesters, right? The family that owns half the stores in this town?"

“Eww, yeah.” Ares only knows what the tabloids say and Cas can’t really blame him. “He isn’t one, I would have remembered.”

"He's not, but he's Dean's bodyguard." Cas sucks in a breath and dives in, quickly explaining everything that happened. He'd leave out the details of Dean's kink if he could, but since that's part of their origin story and also the main reason why he's talking to Ares at the moment in the first place, he tells him about that, too. "He's not like we thought, Ares. He's... beautiful. And infuriating and giving and... boring, in all the best ways."

“Wow... you fell in love with him.” Ares states, and Cas can tell he’s smiling. “I never thought you’d fall for anyone, let alone a Winchester. At least it’s the hot one.”

_ Love? Did I? Am I?  _ “How dare you,” he says flatly. Not because he thinks Ares is wrong, but because he knows to his core that he's absolutely right, and that's terrifying. “I try to get you laid, and this is how you repay me? Ruining my inner peace?”

Ares laughs annoyingly hard and then sighs. “I missed you. Okay, when is this happening, and can I punch Dean too? Just for fun.”

"No. Jask will be doing the punching, and you just... thank Jask for his efforts. I'd like there to be at least something left of Dean's gorgeous face when it's my turn." Cas smiles, pacing in circles around the large room. "Saturday morning sometime, I'm assuming. Jask is getting a free day off out of this and I'm assuming he'll want to take full advantage."

“Okay, send me the address when it’s time. I’ll be ready... think he’d like my lace panties? I just got some new baby blue ones with white trim I’ve been dying to wear for someone.”

Cas purses his lips as he walks back to wear Jask is finishing his food. "Hey, I'm on the phone with a friend of mine that's doing a little survey. How do you feel about panties?"

“On women or men? Because I have different opinions.” Cas rolls his eyes and tells him on men, and the way he closes his eyes tells him all he needs to hear. “They’re fucking underrated  _ and  _ unappreciated.” 

Ares whimpers on the other end at the sound of Jask’s voice. “Ask him what he’d do to me...” he whispers.

As tempting as that sounds, Cas now needs to ask Dean how he'd feel about wearing them. “Thank you for your time, Jask. I'm sure that’ll be very, very helpful.” He makes his way toward Dean’s room and rushes out, “I’ll send you the address, okay? Thanks, Ares. Bye.” He hangs up before he can respond and pushes the door open, his mind now securely on one, single track. “Dean Winchester, do you own a pair of panties? A jock strap? Anything?”

Dean was doing push-ups and his skin is glistening beautifully as he stands. “Uh... no. I mean I might have my jock strap from high school but I dunno where it is or if it even fits anymore. You want me in panties, baby?” He grins and walks forward.

"Yes. Specifically on Saturday. Don't ask me why, you'll find out on Saturday." He pulls Dean in and kisses him hard, running his hands down his damp skin. "But for now... what do you say we find another way to work out?"


End file.
